


Pool Hall Hustle

by FeythInWords



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst, Bathroom Sex, Complete, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gambling, M/M, Pool Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7173194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeythInWords/pseuds/FeythInWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ill-advised wager leaves Merlin at the mercy of wealthy, worldly, wicked Arthur Pendragon.</p>
<p>With stakes higher than ever before - who will emerge victorious, and who has the most to lose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> (This is my first attempt at fic. I hope everyone enjoys. Feel free to leave comments. I'll take the good and the bad! I'd also like to send an extreme thanks to Caledonia for not only reading it first, but also for writing the summary and fixing all my mistakes! <3 ^.^ Enjoy!)

With an expert touch, hands press the colorful spheres against the wooden frame. The triangle is gently lifted so as not to disturb the cluster it leaves behind and then swung in a circle between two hands. Ritual complete, Merlin hangs the triangle on the edge of the light fixture that overlooks the green felt. He grabs the cue that rests against the table and walks to the other end where one uncolored sphere awaits him. A hand moves to surround the ball, moving it to its desired location. Only then does he bend to position his cue, aligning the tip with the snow white target. Staring down the end of the stick, he casts his eyes past the unmarked ball to focus on the grouping at the other end of the table. The cue is stroked, once, twice, then a third time slowly as he concentrates on his attack. And then chaos descends, his body flexing masterfully as the blue chalked tip stabs at the ball’s unblemished surface. The tight formation shatters as the cue ball collides with the head of the pack. The colorful spheres scatter across the green felt with all the care and exuberance of a horde of children let loose on a playground.

As the movement dies upon the table’s surface, Merlin studies the positions of each ball in turn and how they relate to the cue ball. He wouldn’t dare look for the easiest shot. Instead, he wants the best, the most challenging. He is playing by himself at the moment, having just won forty dollars off a pleasant enough fellow who had introduced himself as Percy. Of course that means that Merlin has to try the hardest and most impressive shots before his next challenger shows up.

Merlin makes his decision and takes two steps to the right. Cue in hand, he bends over the table to find his target. A cold wind drifts past his cheek as he takes aim. The distraction comes and goes, but he wills his focus to remain on the table. And then the cue ball is sent off with a snap. It squeezes between two balls and careens toward the four, clinking against its purple surface without restraint. The four in turn forces its way into the table’s rail, bouncing back at an angle to head toward the corner pocket. There, before its resting place, the traitorous vixen decides to bump its polished curve against the edge of the rail, sending it to bobble in front of the hole without dropping. 

Merlin’s lips press themselves into a line of disappointment. A hand grabs the blue square of chalk and, rubbing it on the tip of his cue, he contemplates the table once more. As he debates between the five and the thirteen, a hand slaps him on the shoulder. Will is at his side, a beer in hand and a careless smile on his face.

“You suck,” Will laughs. The comment is the same every time Merlin misses a shot.

“Oh please, Master William, show me how it’s done.” Merlin offers the cue to his best friend.

“Sorry, a bit busy scoping out the new blood.” Will decides to change the subject before his distinct lack of skills is put to the test and he flicks his head towards the bar. Merlin’s last victim sits on a stool next to his friends, but the group seems to have gained another member. Merlin can only see the man’s back as he’s stretching over the bar to place his order. He takes a moment to note the amazing ass and finds himself slightly jealous of his favorite bartendress, though the man’s good looks would surely be lost on Izzy, as she’s already spoken for. Merlin turns away from the man before he becomes too preoccupied with wild fantasies.

“And?” Merlin sets his sights on the green of the table. He can hear Will’s sigh over the din of the crowded establishment. 

“Meeeerrliiin,” Will groans as he wraps a hand around Merlin’s cue. “Come on, just tonight, stop playing pool and have some real good fun with me and then I’ll let you go back to playing with your stick and balls next week.”

Merlin lifts his eyes as if thinking over the proposal before abruptly dropping them back to Will’s face with a firm “No”. Merlin puts on a smile as Will begins to pout. Still, Will’s restraining hand releases the cue.

“You never let me have any fun.” Will’s hands cross in front of his body. “Here I was trying to be a good wing man.”

“Really now?” Merlin bends back over the table, lining up his shot as he sends his sarcasm in Will’s direction.

“Yes really. That guy is totally your type.”

Merlin has picked an easier shot and his cue connects; the two rolls into the side pocket as he stands back up and glances at Percy’s group. The newcomer is now sitting at a stool and Merlin is finally able to size him up properly. Golden hair crowns exquisite features and even from across the room Merlin can see his clear blue eyes. Handsome is the wrong word, but for the life of him, Merlin has never been introduced to a word that seems right when attempting to describe the divine features of the creature before him. His sigh is quickly turned into a laughing huff.

“When have I ever dated a guy that looked like that?” he questions Will.

“Exactly.” Will is obviously trying to make a point but Merlin is lost. Will shakes his head at Merlin and begins explaining in a way that makes Merlin feel like he is back in elementary school. “You date guys that are ‘your type’ and things always go wrong because you’re never really into them. But I’ve known you my whole life, Mer-man, and I know that you’ve always crushed on the super hot, super athletic, super ‘not-your-type’ guy.”

“Bullshit.” Merlin tries to shake Will but a best friend really does always know.

“You like to be all ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ but I know in your heart you really love ‘Sexy Back’.” Will holds his hands up as if there is no argument. Merlin shakes his head a bit as if he’s about to deny it when Will leans in closer to Merlin wearing a serious face. “Look, to be honest the guys you date are shit. They obviously either care even less than you do or they just want a chance to ride your dick. You’ve never put yourself out there and we both know that that’s why you keep the back door locked, ya know?”

Merlin isn’t thrilled with Will’s analysis of his love life, but he can’t really argue either. Still he’s not about to make a fool of himself just because Will knows how to push him. “Look at that guy,” Merlin retorts. “He’s hot in that ‘I-could-be-an-actor’ type of way. He’s wearing nice clothes so he either lives with his mom or he has some sense of responsibility. And nothing about him says I work part-time at the drive-thru. He’s either taken or a complete douche.”

“A complete douche that could make sweet, sweet lovin’ to you all night long?” A devilish grin settles on Will’s features as he regards Merlin. “Come on. I’m not saying marry the guy. What’s wrong with an easy hookup?” 

“Even if he is single and perfect…” Merlin gestures at himself as if that’s all there is to be said.

“You really don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Merlin isn’t buying it. He decides his best escape is the same as always. “Whatever. Not interested. Besides, I’m working.”

“Chickenshit.” Will kicks at the bottom of the pool table before turning to walk away. Merlin can only hope that Will won’t start planning some diabolic matchmaking scheme. Clearing Will’s lecture from the inside of his cranium, he leans over the table to set another shot. One last quick glance back at the heavenly figure sitting at the bar confirms everything he had just proclaimed to his best friend. A sigh clears the last scraps of argument from his mind and his cue connects with its target. Over the next few minutes, the number of balls on the table thins as Merlin sets to work clearing the green.

As he rises from a particularly difficult shot that ended with the three ball tumbling into a corner pocket, Merlin hears his name called out. He turns to see Percy walking over accompanied by the golden haired stranger. Some part of Merlin tenses but he chooses to ignore it in favor of a casual smile.

“Hey, I was telling my friend Arthur here about our game and he was saying he’d like to play some.” Percy gestures to the man beside him. Merlin files the name away carefully for no particular reason and turns his attention toward his new challenger.

“Sounds fine,” Merlin says with a shrug. He can only hope that the gesture comes off as cool and disinterested as opposed to twitchy.

“Percy! Shots!” Someone yells across the room. Percy glances over his shoulder before turning back. 

“Apparently I’m needed. Don’t kick his ass too bad, Merlin, or I’ll never hear the end of it!” Percy has to yell the last few words as he hurries back to his gathering at the bar and Merlin finds himself alone with the radiant man in an otherwise crowded pool hall.

“Merlin would be me, by the way.” Smooth, he thinks to himself but it’s far too late to take back the awkward introduction.

“Arthur.” His voice isn’t loud or forced, but Merlin can hear it clearly over every other sound in the room. 

“Percy may have mentioned, but I tend to play for money.” Merlin turns to the table, drawing his cue across the surface to roll the remaining balls to the far end. Business, he reminds himself. He needs to shake this distracted feeling and focus, and the sight of the pool table helps anchor him.

“Oh?” The man moves to the wall to grab a cue off the rack. He turns it in his hands to stare down its length. A slow turn of the stick seems to deem it acceptable to him. 

“Makes the game more interesting.” Merlin grabs a few balls out of a pocket as Arthur walks back around the table.

“Sorry, but I don’t think forty buck makes anything interesting.” Arthur closes the distance between them and leans against the side of the table while Merlin sets about racking. The sound of the balls rattling in the wooden frame keeps him from taking a step back as Arthur slides a bit closer. “I’ll bet… fifty thousand.”

Merlin laughs as he plucks a few balls from the triangle to rearrange the set up. “Sure. That and the family jewels.”

Except, Merlin notices, Arthur isn’t laughing. Arthur does have an amused smile on his face. “What’s this about family jewels?”

“Get serious.” At one time, Merlin may have reacted visibly to that last comment, but this isn’t the time. 

“I am.”

“Fifty thousand on a game of pool is insane. Plus, you would need a guarantor.” Merlin is starting to feel Arthur’s presence next to him. The reassuring touch of the felt beneath his fingers seems to be the only thing keeping him from getting swept up into Arthur’s pace.

“Don’t trust me?” Arthur’s question hits a bit too close to home for Merlin’s comfort and he finds himself unable to answer as silent alarms resonate through his mind. Arthur pushes away from the pool table. “Fine. Just ask the bartender. She knows I’m good for it.”

“I can’t match you anyways.” Merlin clutches at excuse after excuse.

“There are plenty of things worth more than money.”

“You’re completely delusional if you think I own anything worth fifty thousand dollars.”

“I’ve heard time is money.” 

Merlin freezes, unsure of what to say as the proverb turns into some ludicrous excuse to bet his life away.

“You win, you get fifty thousand dollars. I win, you come to my house to play pool. At least once a week. For… three months.” Arthur’s cards are on the table and still Merlin hesitates. This has to be some type of joke. A very cruel joke. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

“Of course not.” Merlin scoffs but his brain still races to find the catch. This must be how Carrie felt walking into prom, he thinks.

“So?”

Merlin is shaking his head. He isn’t a gambler. Despite his entire life and all the choices that had led him to this moment, he isn’t a gambler. But pool isn’t a gamble. He can win. He exhales as he removes the triangle from around the cluster of pool balls and twirls it between his hands. He reaches to hang it from the fluorescent light fixture.

“Challenger breaks.” Merlin has to accept.


	2. The First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin finds out that he made his bet with none other than Arthur Pendragon, super-rich business tycoon. 
> 
> What has he gotten himself into?

And so began his three month sentence. The hues of the sky shift above Merlin from dark blue to an even darker blue as he ponders the first of many nights that he will be spending in Arthur’s home. Set before him is an imposing wrought iron gate and behind that, a mansion off in the distance. His hands wrap around the cold metal bars as his face is pressed between them. The mansion is huge and not in a small way. Really, the house is more like a castle and Merlin wonders if they get a lot of confused tourists at their door.

Merlin sinks into a squat, his hands running down the twisted metal as his head hangs between bent knees. His eyes study his holey converse as he tries to think of an excuse not to push the call button on the nearby panel. After a week of thought, he still can’t find a decent way out.

Submitting to his fate, Merlin straightens and reaches a finger out to push the buzzer. As a small light on the panel turns red, he finds himself wondering yet again how he ever got himself into this mess. And with a Pendragon to boot.

_Merlin sat in the coffee shop mindlessly perusing the latest trends on his phone when a magazine thwaps down on the table before him. He shifted his eyes off his phone to see Will standing next to his chair._

_“Have you seen this?!” Will questioned as he lowered himself into a seat next to Merlin’s._

_“I’m gonna guess no,” Merlin commented although they both knew Merlin was not one to read magazines._

_“Har har.” Will’s cheeks squeezed upwards in a smile that was less of a smile and more of a ‘Go fuck yourself’ expression._

_Merlin gave a genuine smile to Will as he turned his attention to the Time Magazine Will had thrown down. And there on the cover, ablaze in golden glory, was Arthur. The headline read “King of the Future: An interview with Arthur Pendragon and his rise in the world of tomorrow”. Merlin pocketed his phone and reached out for the issue. Will prattled on beside him but Merlin was flipping through the pages to find the article. He knew he had found the desired section when Arthur’s smiling face once again dominated his sight. He scanned the text as he felt his entire existence growing smaller and smaller._

_‘The world was ready to watch Camelot Technologies fall to the back of the pack when Uther Pendragon announced his resignation as CEO. Although he remains as Chairman of the Board, many expected his young successor to struggle to gain purchase in this intensely competitive field. And yet only a year after taking the reins, 25 year old Arthur Pendragon has driven CamTech to the forefront of modern technology. His achievements become even more remarkable when considering his position as the youngest CEO in CamTech’s long history.’_

_The article was full of buzzwords and accolades. Arthur was ‘making waves in the business arena’ and ‘facilitating the advancement of industry’. According to the writer, Arthur stood at the top of the world and he wasn’t going to stop there. With Arthur at the helm, CamTech was going to usher in a new era of innovative technology with practical applications and creative concept designs._

_Merlin’s forehead fell to press the open magazine against the table top. He was an idiot. In fact, he was the biggest idiot of all the idiots on the whole idiotic planet. And still, he felt a bit better. Merlin knew he had lost due to a preoccupation with the glorious man standing only inches away at the time. The thought was depressing and a bit mortifying and he didn’t know how to explain to others how utterly mind-numbingly distracting this man had been. But losing a game of pool to Arthur Pendragon didn’t seem so bad._

_“...and you get to live the high life for three whole months while your poor commoner friends waste away in poverty.” Will apparently had unreal expectations of the next three months. Merlin kept his head on the table as he listened to his friend’s vivid fantasy world, the whole time trying to find a way out of this uncomfortable situation._

The deadline had passed and now Merlin is stuck with no way to escape from within the deep bowels of the mansion. Even more so since he would surely be unable to find the exit of the enormous domicile. It had taken one car ride, two flights of stairs and twelve hallways to get him to the door he now stood before. He had followed close on the usher’s heels, terrified of getting lost only to be found months later, dead of starvation in a lavish hallway. The servant opens the door for Merlin and politely gestures him inside. Merlin gives the man an awkward smile as he steps past him into the room and before Merlin can grasp his surroundings, the door is pulled shut behind him leaving him completely unattended.

Trying to get comfortable with his new routine, Merlin turns his attention to the room that will surely be his new weekly hangout spot. He had expected to see Arthur there, the conquering hero collecting his prize for a battle well fought. But the room is still and empty, and Merlin carefully notes that his disappointment at the lack of Arthur’s presence is only due to the awkwardness he now feels standing alone in someone else’s house. 

Surveying the room, Merlin finds himself thinking that he may just be able to survive this punishment, after all. The space is a well sized entertainment room except it only houses a pool table, a bar and a couple of arm chairs with a small table between them. Still, everything is obviously of top quality. The recessed ceiling lights are brighter than the hanging lamps in the pool hall but still dimmer than a normal room giving the area an easy comfort. The felt on the table is a warm red and the pockets are woven of thick scarlet rope complete with golden tassels. Graceful wooden feet curl in elegant designs to match the nearby table and chairs. One glance at the bar is enough to tell that it’s fully stocked and the numerous bottles appear ready to please anyone’s tastes. _Yeah, I’ll survive,_ Merlin smiles.

The case holding his cue is swung from his shoulder and Merlin unzips the top to expose the pieces within. He pulls the two connecting sections out before leaning the case against one of the arm chairs. Still sizing up the room, he begins to screw his cue together. He walks around the pool table, checking the pockets until he finds his goal. He lifts out the unmarked ball and gently sets it on the table. His hand occupies its time by bouncing the cue ball against a rail as he waits for his host. Quickly growing bored with the movement, Merlin stills the ball and bends. The cue is leveled and Merlin takes aim in an instant. Contact is made and the white orb flies down the length of the table only to be sent back after its path is obstructed by a solid red rail. He stills the ball in the center of the table so that he can reach for the square of chalk that sits next to a nearby pocket. The traditional blue apparently isn’t good enough for the young Pendragon and Merlin has no choice but to chalk his cue with a bit of red. Setting the cube back where he found it, Merlin leans again to line and shoot. The ball travels down the length of the table and back once more, but before the cue ball rolls to a stop, Merlin’s cue connects with it sending it to the far rail again. And again. And again. He pulls his cue back for another go when the door opens. Merlin hastily stands, grabbing the rolling sphere to stop its motions. Although he was doing nothing wrong, he still feels as if he’s just been caught with his hands in his pants.

Merlin’s anxiety only grows as Arthur walks in wearing a crisp, tailored suit. He doesn’t want to admit how good Arthur looks. He doesn’t want to notice the pull of muscles just beneath Arthur’s button down shirt as Arthur removes his suit coat. He doesn’t want to see the well defined lines of Arthur’s forearms as his sleeves are rolled up. And he definitely doesn’t want to stand next to Arthur while wearing a worn out t-shirt and faded jeans.

Maybe Merlin won’t survive after all.

“Hello?” Arthur’s voice finally reaches Merlin’s preoccupied mind.

“Huh?” Merlin internally cringes. Great opening line, really. 

“I said, you’re really here.” Arthur smiles as he speaks, a playful light peeking out from his blue eyes. His words have a hint of disbelief to them and Merlin prickles at the insinuation. 

“A man doesn’t skip out on his word,” Merlin proclaims. 

Arthur smiles at Merlin’s declaration. “Isn’t that a bit sexist? Like all women are cheats?”

“Whatever.” Merlin feels his bravado waver. “It’s a turn of phrase, or something.” He has been cut off at the knees and he knows it. An impolite internal finger is raised in Arthur’s direction as Merlin lets himself stare down at the red felt.

“Want a beer?” Arthur walks around the bar, gaining access to the numerous bottles it holds.

“No thanks.” Merlin can hear a bottle opener working its magic. He lets his fingers stretch towards the cue ball while silence descends between them. The air becomes heavy and full of distance and Merlin suddenly knows this deal won’t work - one night of awkward silences and feeble glances and surely Arthur will pull the plug on this whole charade.

“Too much?” Arthur’s voice pulls Merlin’s eyes to the bar effortlessly. His heavenly host has moved around the bar to lean sideways between two bar stools, resting his arm against the polished wooden surface. His expression is one of helpless surrender. Inexplicably wanting to ease Arthur’s mind, Merlin struggles to find an answer, but he can’t seem to find one quick enough to satisfy Arthur’s doubts. “It’s a family house. Not really my taste. I can promise you that Robin Leach isn’t prowling the halls... I think…”

“Noooooo…” Merlin decides to do the one thing he’s good at. “It’s just right for the- what is it? The Future King?”

Arthur smiles and Merlin can’t help but reflect the expression. He leans on his cue as he watches one of Arthur’s hand raise to his tailored shirt, rubbing out some invisible wound from his chest while his eyes clench in mock pain.

“You saw that?” Arthur peeks at Merlin.

Merlin sends a knowing grin at the man. Arthur drops himself on top of a bar stool with a sigh. 

“I guess the secret’s out.” Arthur lets himself fall quiet. Without reason, Merlin again finds himself reaching for words to comfort the man, but the words never come as Arthur begins to chuckle at some private joke. Confused, Merlin watches silently. “It’s been a while since I needed a guarantor.”

Merlin wants to crawl under the pool table and spend the rest of his humble life hiding from the titan of business. The best he can manage is a flush of embarrassment coupled with an irrational outburst. “Fuck off! ...as if I’m supposed to know jack shit about shit…” 

Merlin shoves a hand into one of the pool table’s pockets defiantely and begins to cast colored balls across the table. The spheres roll chaotically across the red felt, bumping the rails and clinking into each other with little purpose. Without racking, Merlin begins to shoot. The random placement of the balls across the table is enough to give Merlin focus and helps to drive away the lingering feelings of foolishness. Arthur seems content enough watching Merlin play and this realization shatters Merlin’s focus all over again. Merlin regards the cue ball for a long moment as he tries to shake the feeling that trickles down his spine. If he shoots now, he’ll miss and he can’t miss. Not again. He just… can’t.

“So the company was your dad’s?” Merlin asks, trying to shift everything away from him, trying to gain enough distance to feel normal again..

“And his father’s before that.” Arthur nods. 

“That sounds intense.” Merlin talks as he moves around the pool table, looking at angles and studying distances.

“Intense?” Arthur pauses. “Yeah, at times.”

“I’d think it’d be all the time.” Merlin finds himself glancing at Arthur as he becomes a bit interested in the conversation. “Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of room for mistakes.”

“I don’t make mistakes.” Arthur’s mouth curls in a cocky smile, but his eyes burn with a confidence that sends a hum through Merlin’s body. So much for normal. Arthur brings his beer to his mouth and Merlin looks away, choosing to focus on the pool table. He doesn’t want to notice Arthur’s lips as they kiss the rim of the bottle to allow the liquid to flow past. Pin pricks move down Merlin’s back and a nervous energy envelopes him. He grips the edge of the table, unconsciously anchoring himself. 

“Really, my life has been less intense and more intensely boring,” Arthur continues. “That’s why magazines just write about business crap. The rest of my life has been boarding schools and private tutors.”

Merlin puts the table between them before rejoining the conversation. “You can tell me the truth.” Merlin smiles across the felt. “If I were going to sell your secrets, I would have already gone to the press. ‘Future King or Gambling Addict?’ Catchy headline, don’t you think?”

“You’d shoot yourself in the foot with that one. A man has his pride, right?”

“Pride doesn’t put food on the table.”

“No. But pride is why you put food on the table,” Arthur counters. Merlin’s left speechless as he studies those words. “Still, my closet remains rather skeleton free. A number of benign college parties, a couple of steamy sexual encounters, a few weekends involving too much liquor… Oh! And a really good prank involving a helicopter and the Yorktown Coast Guard.”

Merlin’s heart skips at the mention of Arthur’s sexual history. He’s sure that ‘a couple’ really means more than a dozen. “You’re right. Completely boring.”

“It is. Of course everyone does sit around waiting for me to fuck up. That can be intense,” Arthur continues. “It’s like I can feel them waiting to drive a knife into my back.” Arthur shakes his head as if to clear the feeling, but Merlin catches the expression that flickers across his face. This time, Merlin doesn’t hesitate.

“That’s fine,” he declares with a casual air. He sent a smile towards Arthur. “Cause you don’t make mistakes.”

Arthur’s smile is blinding.

“Must be nice,” Merlin muses. “I’m so sick of fucking up.”

“Says ‘The Wizard’ to ‘The King’,” Arthur counters. Now Merlin’s the one cringing.

“Where the hell did you hear that?” The hand not occupied by his cue surges upwards to rub at his forehead, shielding his eyes from his accuser.

“Why do you think we were at that bar?” Arthur laughs.

Merlin closes his eyes behind the palm of his hand.

“You met Percy. He heard this wonderful rumor of this fantastic pool player.” Arthur’s tone leave no doubt in Merlin’s mind that he’s loving this. “Some young guy who plays pool for money. People call him ‘The Wizard’. Ever heard of him? So Percy, being a lover of any skill honed to excellence, wanted to find this ‘Wizard’. And our friend Gwaine just happens to know a guy who knows a guy…”

“So you show up at the bar to get a good look?” Merlin’s hand moves to the side of his face, allowing his gaze to meet Arthur accusingly. But Arthur doesn’t back down an inch.

“Yep. Percy was seriously impressed.” Arthur’s tone has changed. His words flow out in earnest. “He said it was well worth forty dollars just to see you play. Hell, we all know why you have a reputation. It’s rather well earned.”

“Whatever.” Merlin’s hand falls as he straightens. “Unlike you, I actually like my reputation… when it’s not getting me into bets that I can’t win.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t give a damn what people call me as long as I’m good enough to be talked about.” That cocky smile is back. That damn cocky smile. Before Merlin can stop himself, he’s staring. Arthur’s hair is a golden crown in the dimmed light and Merlin feels the weight of the those clear blue eyes upon him. Arthur’s smile twists as his tongue wets his lips, his expression turning devious. “Would you like to find out?”

“Find out what?” Merlin questions as Arthur’s unscrupulous gaze numbs all logic and reason.

“If I’m good enough to be talked about.”

Merlin avoids answering with an awkward laugh as he turns back to the pool table. But he can’t shake the feeling of Arthur’s eyes as they follow Merlin around the room. The pleasant atmosphere that had permeated the air is now nowhere to be found and the room feels heavy with intent. Melin needs to say something in an attempt to reclaim the lost camaraderie but his mind is in chaos as it repeats Arthur’s words internally over and over again. He’s definitely good enough to be talked about. Merlin is sure that Arthur’s skills would immediately hook Merlin and he would become completely addicted. Best to keep his fantasies in check. But this isn’t a fantasy, he realizes. Suddenly, Merlin feels that his reality is turning into a bad porno and he somehow needs to find the rewind button. He stirs his breath as he reaches for words to smooth the rising tension and release the frustration building inside of him. But as he turns to Arthur, he finds himself caught in two oceans of blue. The hungry stare seizes Merlin before words can escape his lips.

Those crystal eyes are on Merlin, their ferocity more intimidating than a thousand armoured men. The confidence that raged in them only minutes ago has been replaced with a ravenous desire. They do not burn or smolder or singe, they speak to Merlin of an emptiness that wishes only to be filled, of a hunger that would surely consume him to satiate itself if only he would let it.

Merlin is held spellbound until he knows he cannot possibly look into those eyes another second for fear of losing everything that he has ever been. He rips himself away before he is devoured by their endless depths. Merlin leans over the pool table with cue in hand, but the sensation of Arthur’s eyes upon him does not ease. He can easily feel Arthur’s gaze trailing over every inch of his body. He reacts to the feeling as if every one of his nerves stands at attention, his senses expanding to their limits. His spine tingles and he actively fights to control his body. He can barely move without the threat of a shiver racing through him. Even the air against his skin feels as if it has been sent there at Arthur’s behest. And then he hears footsteps against the ground, his ears straining to detect the presence coming towards him. Oh god, if Arthur makes him feel like this with just a look, how can he hope to control himself without the pool table separating them?

Merlin barely sees Arthur as he approaches. A hand drags across the edge of the pool table slowly making its way towards Merlin. His brain searches for some escape, but his body betrays him, staying frozen against red felt. The cue trembles in his hands as he completely loses sight of Arthur. His eyes fix on the white ball in front of him but he can’t ignore the sound of Arthur’s footfalls as they grow closer. Arthur’s hand stops next to Merlin.

“You’re good enough.” Arthur’s words drip into Merlin’s ears with lustful intentions.

Merlin can’t reply. He’s knows in the pit of his being that if he acknowledges Arthur in this moment, he’ll be consumed.

“I was watching you. While you were shooting. I know why you’re called The Wizard.” Arthur continues as he leans closer, fingers brushing against Merlin’s shoulder. “I needed to see more, to be able to watch as you cast your magic... I don’t even know why, just that I was…” Arthur pauses looking for a word, a word that would surely do nothing but send Merlin tumbling into confusion as he stands paralyzed in that moment. “ … compelled,” Arthur finishes.

Merlin’s heart beats hard in his ears as Arthur moves closer still, his body now poised slightly behind Merlin. A hand lands lightly at his waist and he can feel a thumb idly stroking his side as Arthur hips press against Merlin from behind.

“You’re a bit close.” Merlin had hoped the words would pull the world back to order, but his voice betrays him as he hears a quiver in his tone.

“You don't like it?” Arthur questions as Merlin feels Arthur’s heat growing against him. Arthur leans over him and Merlin can feel his breath against the back of his neck. The hand at his waist slips under his shirt and he can feel light brushes against his skin. Arthur’s fingers move to Merlin’s stomach tantalizing his nerves.

“It’s just a bit… uncomfortable.” Only a small portion of Merlin’s brain is left to answer and it seems so distant amidst the swirling existence that is Arthur. The cue goes slack in Merlin’s hands as the shot is forgotten in the myriad of sensations which are most definitely not uncomfortable.

“Do you want me to stop?” Arthur asks.

Arthur's hips nudge against Merlin’s ass as Arthur’s hand flattens against his stomach. Merlin straightens at the pressure, his back inches away from Arthur’s chest. Arthur’s arm curls around Merlin and his free hand strokes at Merlin’s collarbones through his t-shirt. Flattening against the upper limits of his sternum, the hand eases Merlin back in to Arthur’s awaiting chest. 

“As if you would…” Merlin responds, giving in to the man’s touch. Arthur’s tongue finds its way to Merlin’s flesh and climbs it way up Merlin’s neck. Merlin shudders a bit with the contact, the sensation burning through every nerve. The wake left behind brings further agony as gentle wafts of air curl over the moistened skin. Arthur breathes into Merlin’s ear as his hand moves from his chest to cradle Merlin’s neck. 

“All you have to say is ‘Stop’.” Arthur’s words aren’t heard. They are felt through the skin of Merlin’s ear. Merlin’s vision is fuzzy with the sensation of Arthur’s lower hand as it makes its way to position itself above Merlin’s navel. Arthur’s mouth, having finished delivering its message, has busied itself with the tender flesh of an earlobe as an idle thumb strokes against Merlin’s neck. Arthur’s hips move in small erratic motions and through his jeans Merlin can feel Arthur’s hardened length rubbing against his ass.

“And you would stop?” Merlin finds himself unlikely to believe the words of his aggressor. In the distant recesses of his mind, he can hear the clamor of warning bells, but the sensations draw his attention away from the alarms. He almost turns to jelly as Arthur’s mouth remains on Merlin’s ear while he answers, “Mmhmm.” Arthur’s hand trails its way across Merlin’s collar bones to reach his shoulder. Arthur’s mouth finally leaves Merlin’s ear to trail its way back down his neck. Golden hair tickles at Merlin’s jaw. The collar of his t-shirt is pulled by Arthur’s hand and Arthur’s mouth finds it way to Merlin’s shoulder just below his neckline. Teeth prowl over Merlin’s skin before lips go about their job of sucking at the delicate flesh. Merlin can feel his eyes shutting and his head leaning back onto Arthur’s shoulder. He’s going to leave a mark Merlin thinks, but he can’t bother enough to care. Merlin lifts a hand to grab at Arthur’s arm, his other reaching for the pool table to balance himself, but he can’t seem to find it. He knows he’s about to collapse as his knees just don’t seem to be working anymore. The warning bells are louder in his mind and he knows he’s playing a dangerous game. Arthur’s lower hand shifts downward, his fingers sliding their way just past the waist of Merlin’s jeans and into his boxers. Not far, just enough so that those fingers can brush against his lower abdomen and Merlin can picture them reaching further to wrap around his shaft. He wants Arthur to reach further, to stop teasing him and give him the release he desperately wants. Arthur’s mouth is still nursing that same delicate spot, but his other hand has made its way inside the collar of Merlin’s shirt. Merlin can feel himself squeezed between his own thigh and the fabric of his jeans. Arthur draws his mouth off of Merlin. The delicate fabric of Arthur’s suit pants does nothing to stop Merlin from feeling exactly how entertained Arthur is and Merlin can feel his own ass pressing itself into Arthur’s hips. Arthur growls next to Merlin’s ear. Merlin’s body is ready to collapse in on itself and Merlin can’t breathe!

“S- stop.” The word slips out from Merlin’s lips.

It’s more of a test than anything. But Arthur immediately draws away. His hands hold Merlin up just long enough to make sure that Merlin doesn’t fall. Merlin remains standing but only because he grabs onto the pool table before his knees give way completely. Leaning into the table, he tries to catch his breath. 

Arthur turns to walk back to the bar and his unfinished beer, his back to Merlin. Merlin is left with no clue as to what just happened. His only conclusion is that Arthur must be playing with him. The winner of the bet enjoying his victory. Merlin looks back to the pool table. His forgotten cue stick has smacked some of the balls. Considering he isn’t playing a game, it really doesn’t matter. Merlin picks up the cue and, having regained some semblance of order, goes back to shooting. But he can still feel himself aching for release and the phantoms left behind by Arthur’s touch do nothing to ease his discomfort. He chances a glance back to his tormentor and sees Arthur sitting at the bar again, finishing his beer. But as he sits back on the stool, his lusty gaze has not diminished. Merlin gets the impression that Arthur is implying that although Merlin can stop Arthur’s actions, he can’t stop Arthur’s thoughts.


	3. The First Month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has past and Merlin struggles to maintain distance between himself and Arthur. And then, Strip Pool.

After Merlin brought a halt to Arthur’s advances, Arthur had remained at the bar for the rest of the evening, watching Merlin play with lascivious eyes. Merlin had wondered if that would be the end of it, but during his second visit to the Pendragon estate the distance between the two shrank quickly. Merlin often felt Arthur’s fingers brush his arms, his back, his shoulders, his ass. And then he was in Arthur’s arms again, fighting to breathe as Arthur’s mouth danced about his neck and shoulders without mercy as Merlin squirmed in his embrace. Hands coursed over Merlin’s body and his mind struggled constantly to keep track of reality. When Merlin said stop, Arthur did and once again he retreated to the solitude of the bar. And so it had happened on the third night and the fourth. Each time Merlin said stop, he had to wait an entire week for another brush of Arthur’s fingers. 

Merlin carefully examines the last month as he makes the long trek to the quiet pool room deep within the mansion’s interior. Upon reflection, he realizes that he has allowed more with each passing week. His cheeks gain a rosy hue as he remembers their last meeting. Images of a t-shirt being tossed aside and Arthur delicately sucking at Merlin’s nipples bring movement in Merlin’s faded denims. He pulls at the fabric around his hips, trying to adjust without drawing attention from the servant leading him through the labyrinth of halls. 

_What the hell am I doing?_ Merlin thinks, his frustration at himself growing even more than his expanding loins. His mind responds, flooding Merlin’s consciousness with images of Arthur, his eager lips, his masterful hands, his perfect ass. Not to be outdone, Merlin tightens the knot within his chest forcing himself to retain control. Although the disparaging thoughts that had followed the loss of the bet were ghosts easily left in the past, the loss he would suffer if he gave in to the whims of his gorgeous host would surely ruin him. After all, this was a game from the beginning; just a pool hall hustle gone wrong.

Merlin braces himself as he enters the room. Sure enough, Arthur is sitting at the bar drinking a beer while scrolling through his phone. Merlin can imagine him checking stock prices or skimming corporate emails. But the phone is quickly abandoned when he sees Merlin. Tonight Arthur is wearing well fitting jeans and a snug sweater that does just enough to prompt Merlin’s thoughts with what lays beneath. Merlin quickly begins to pull out his pool cue, willing himself not to pay any extra attention to Arthur. He does manage to notice that Arthur is barefoot today which makes Merlin want to smile although he’s not quite sure why. It's not as though Merlin has a foot fetish or that Arthur has incredibly attractive feet. Merlin tries to ignore his own suppressed grin as he moves to rack the balls on the table.

“You don’t drink.” Arthur abruptly breaks the silence with his observation.

“Hm?” Merlin responds as he twirls the triangle between his hands.

“I’ve never seen you drink. I know you’re only 20 but you strike me as the type who wouldn’t care.” Merlin carelessly smiles at the display of Arthur’s knowledge. Why should he be even remotely happy that Arthur remembers his age even though the conversation was weeks ago? Merlin carefully steadies his face before he answers.

“I don’t drink while I play.”

Arthur takes a moment before responding. “You’re pretty serious when it comes to pool.”

Merlin thinks over Arthur’s words as he leans to take aim. The cue is driven fast and true and the formation that Merlin had taken fastidious care to create is destroyed in an instant. 

“Why?” Arthur’s question mirrors Merlin’s own thoughts.

Merlin straightens, palms coming to rest on the edge of the table as he thinks about the mystery. His eyes rest on the spread before him as he searches for the answer. The span of the red felt and the haphazard position of the balls upon it strikes Merlin as beautiful and not for the first time. “Dunno,” is all that he admits. “I just like pool.”

Merlin begins to study the lay of the balls but he knows that Arthur’s eyes are on him. There are always on him and it’s enough to drive anyone mad. But the silence in the room doesn’t feel charged or tense, and in this moment Merlin finds it easy to exist within the four walls of this small room. 

“So you’re serious about things you like?” Arthur queries.

“I dunno. Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a serious guy,” Merlin speculates.

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just serious about what you do. Like, when you have fun, you seriously have fun. And when you work, you seriously work. You do what you’re doing and nothing else.” 

“Clear lines,” Merlin responds as he takes a shot before standing.

“Hm.” Arthur obviously wants more than a two word answer.

Merlin reaches out to grab the red square of chalk. His hands set about tending to the tip of his cue as he faces Arthur to answer. “Work is work. Drinking is drinking. Pool is pool.”

The chalk is returned to its position as Merlin moves his cue in front of his lips. A short gust of air is sent out to remove the excess dust from his tip. Moving into position, he bends to take another shot.

“Okay. Then what is this?” Arthur’s words have a hint of hesitance that sounds unusual to Merlin coming from the overconfident king of the world. 

The shot isn’t taken. Merlin freezes as the question rolls through him. He knows the answer but as he glances toward Arthur, he sees the barely restrained lust pooling in those expansive blue eyes. What does Arthur want him to say, what is he expecting? Merlin turns back to focus on his shot, trying to forget the desire he just saw in Arthur’s face.

“A bet. A bet I lost.” It’s the truth. But a truth that has begun to make Merlin’s heart constrict.

“Ah.”

Merlin couldn’t gain anything from that type of answer. He finds the cue ball and takes aim as he feels a bit of anger trickle inside of him. Arthur could be a bit more forthcoming. Is he disappointed or angry? Or maybe Arthur didn’t care and was just trying to ascertain how Merlin feels. _Give me a bit more to go on at least!_

“In that case, how about another bet?” Arthur’s words cause Merlin’s cue to glance off the polished surface of his target, sending the cue ball rolling a few inches in a sideways direction. Again, Merlin finds his words running away from him and he can’t catch a single one to provide an answer. He has seen Arthur’s skill at pool and although the loss could partly be blamed on Merlin’s distraction, Arthur was still good. And Merlin isn’t sure he can compromise any more of himself for this man. 

“Um…” He hopes he can buy time with the ambivalent sound.

“Strip pool,” Arthur elaborates.

Arthur’s salaciousness is palpable and Merlin has a hard time focusing. Not good. If Merlin agrees, he is sure to be the one bare. If he was distracted before, how would a topless Arthur make him any more focused.

As if he can sense Merlin’s hesitation, Arthur continues provocatively. “Afterall, I’m only wearing two articles of clothing.” 

Two articles… but… Merlin’s brain is stuck on the math. Jeans, sweater, boxers… is three. Make that boxer-briefs, Arthur just seems like he’d look outstanding in tight cotton fabric. But jeans and a sweater… is two. But Arthur has on jeans and a sweater… and boxer-briefs make three. Arthur’s eyes are delighted as they watch Merlin’s brain try to work through the problem at hand. The smile on Arthur’s face helps Merlin sort through the logic and reach the inevitable conclusion. _No boxers. Make that boxer-briefs._ Merlin isn’t one to go red in the face, but he finds himself wondering if today is different or if Arthur had always… But that would mean that when Arthur was… That when… and Merlin… And just his pants, that had been the only thing that had been between Merlin and… 

Merlin’s eyes are now staring at Arthur’s bare feet.

“Challenger breaks,” Merlin breathes as he succumbs to his overheated head.

Arthur grabs a cue from the rack against the wall as Merlin gathers the balls. He racks and Arthur moves to the other end of the table preparing to break. Arthur sends a wicked smile Merlin’s way before that cue ball goes coursing across the felt.

 

* * *

  


  
Somehow, Merlin knew it would be this way. Arthur stands magnificently topless, his sweater strewn across the bar. And somehow, The Wizard is down to his Spider-Man boxers, and the web-slinging superhero has made Merlin feel anything but heroic. He’s trying his best not to look at the overly distracting lines of Arthur’s stomach, but it is obvious that Arthur does not intend to provide the same courtesy. As Merlin bends over the pool table, he can feel Arthur’s eyes as if they had sprung from his body to take a trip across Merlin’s ass. There is no way in hell for Merlin to focus on anything other than his captor’s intentions. What’s all this talk about clear lines and pool is pool? He doesn’t even bother to take his shot.

“I give!” Merlin slumps against the edge of the table.

Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Really? You’re not even going to try.”

Arthur pushes his way off the bar and starts a slow pace towards Merlin.

“I lost, okay? Just… whatever.” Merlin leaves his cue on the table as he rights himself, fighting the urge to back away from Arthur. Arthur steps closer and Merlin can already feel a tremble beginning along his exposed skin. The light in Arthur’s eyes is completely devious.

“But why not put up a fight? I haven’t won yet,” Arthur teases.

Merlin knows right away it’s not the fight that Arthur wants. It’s the victory, the reward. This game has been one long tease and Merlin’s nerves can’t take it anymore. He looks at Arthur, prepared to tell him off for being so damn distracting. And his voice dies. Arthur is close and his eyes have hypnotized Merlin completely. Arthur’s hands land on Merlin’s hips and Merlin finds his own hands coming to rest on Arthur’s arms. He tenses, trying to focus enough to provide an answer. He can only find his voice when his eyes break from Arthur’s and he finds himself staring at Arthur’s shoulder instead.

“I can’t… focus.” A tiny voice in Merlin’s head applauds him for telling the bastard off so thoroughly. 

“Hm? And why would that be?” Arthur is even closer now, and the shoulder Merlin has been staring at is mere inches away.

“You’re distracting.” The answer is hard to get out. It’s embarrassing and Merlin thinks it’s a bit misleading. But so is Arthur so he figures it’s fine. Arthur closes the distance even more as he moves his head next to Merlin’s.

“Since you lost, it looks as if we have one more article to remove.” Arthur’s hands find their way beneath the elastic band on Merlin’s hips. Merlin’s hand move up to Arthur’s shoulders as Arthur leans into him. Arthur’s fingers play with the flesh of Merlin’s hips before they curl around to grab at his cheeks. Merlin’s lips press together to keep uncalled-for sounds to a minimum. He has learned in the past how traitorous his own body can be, letting out moans of pleasure that only seem to entice Arthur into an ever more devious state of being. Merlin has always tried desperately to keep his head about him and each time, he has fallen into Arthur’s pace. Always.

And then Arthur’s frame lowers, his hands expertly sliding Merlin’s boxers down his legs. Merlin leaves his hands on Arthur’s shoulders to provide balance. He almost falls over anyway the instant he realizes that Arthur’s hands are now at Merlin’s ankles. That would mean that Arthur’s face is… _Oh, fuck_ , Merlin thinks. _I was fucking hard as hell when… and now Arthur is right there… Shit!_

As if reading Merlin’s thoughts, a hand wraps around Merlin’s shaft as he feels Arthur’s tongue flow upwards from base to tip along the underside of his cock. Merlin’s lungs fill with air as his core tightens, his shoulders trembling. The breath is held in silent exhilaration as Arthur’s tongue trails along Merlin’s length. That tongue circles his tip before lips land on his flesh teasingly. Arthur doesn’t take him into his mouth but instead kisses along his crown. Lips finally encircle Merlin’s tip only to be dragged away leaving the echo of the torturous kiss upon moistened skin. A hand begins to massage Merlin’s length sending a wave of warmth throughout his body. Arthur’s tongue returns to lick at Merlin’s cock and Merlin can feel overwhelming desire to be inside that taunting mouth. Merlin looks down at Arthur in front of him as the man continues to torture Merlin’s hardened self. The sight of the would be ‘King’ kneeling before him is almost enough to shatter his control. Images of hands gripping at golden hair as he pushes his way past Arthur’s perfect lips barrel through his mind with fervor. Some sliver of decorum holds him in check and only a single hand manages to comb its way lightly into the blonde strands.

Sound cannons its way through Merlin’s lustful haze as the _Imperial March_ begins to echo from the bar. Arthur drags a kiss over Merlin’s tip once more before rising. Merlin sees the blue in his eyes ringed with annoyance before Arthur walks towards the bar. His cellphone is retrieved and a finger swipes at the screen sharply before the device is raised to his ear. “What?”

Naked and throbbing, Merlin is left to stand by the pool table as he listens to Arthur’s end of the conversation. He can tell that the call has something to do with work. The interruption provides Merlin with the perfect opportunity to calm his overactive imagination. As he allows Arthur’s voice to drift into the background, Merlin bends to slid his boxers back up to his hips and he tries to imagine the throbbing sensation between his legs diminishing.

Surely now the night will come to an early end. As he’s about to turn to search for his jeans, Merlin casts a glance in Arthur’s direction. And the sight stills his movements completely. With the phone to his ear, Arthur is staring at Merlin with an intense desire that threatens to corrupt any innocence Merlin has left within him. Merlin’s mind becomes flooded with fantasies of Arthur doing everything and anything to him. He imagines Arthur taking him and the thought sends a shiver of both fear and excitement coursing through his naked body. Merlin feels himself reacting under Arthur’s perverse stare and he knows that Spider-Man isn’t shielding enough from Arthur’s view.

The phone lowers from Arthur’s ear as a finger presses at the screen. Merlin is amazed that Arthur would end an important call just to continue with their night of debauchery, but his amazement soon turns to panic as he realizes that Arthur hasn't ended the call at all. A voice resonates from the phone and Merlin knows that Arthur has switched the call to speaker. He can hear a worried voice explaining some mistake with a contract but Arthur seems to be ignoring the professional catastrophe as he devours Merlin with his eyes. Merlin’s mind is torn in two as a part of him desperately wants to hide his body’s reaction from his voyeur and another part revels in the desire Arthur’s eyes hold for Merlin’s near naked form. The voice on the phone becomes clearer as Arthur approaches Merlin and Merlin’s mind decides that the best course would definitely be to hide. Or run. Or move in some way. But his body doesn’t want to listen and instead leaves his excitement exposed as if urging Arthur to devastate him once more. 

The phone is placed on the pool table still explaining that, although the original contract drawn up by Gareth had been within specifications, errors had been made when passed to a subordinate for revision. Arthur ignores the phone and instead stares at Merlin’s boxers. A hand reaches out to find its way in past Merlin’s cotton walls and fingers curl lightly around his cock. Arthur’s touch is once again teasing, delicate brushes sending goosebumps over Merlin’s flesh. 

“Get to the point, Leon. I have better things to do.” Arthur’s tone is that of a king and Merlin shudders at the raw power held within Arthur’s commands. Merlin also catches Arthur’s insinuation and his cock jumps in Arthur’s loose grip as wild fantasies engulf him once more. The small piece of rational thought that Merlin’s has left struggles to remind him of his precarious situation. Surely if he should give in to this man, his walls will crumble. But the sensation of Arthur drowns him as the hand draws Merlin’s length from the fabric and closes around Merlin’s shaft, embracing him in a pleasurable constriction.

“The point, Arthur, is that we need this contract by Monday,” the man named Leon summarized through the phone. Arthur’s hand begins to move in a slow rhythm along Merlin’s cock and Merlin focuses on silence as he aches for more. 

“Call Gareth in. He will redraft the contract tonight. If I do not have a presentable copy by tomorrow, the repercussions will be severe.” Arthur’s tone is final and his hand pulls at Merlin with the same authority. Merlin knows that Arthur’s lustful eyes are on him even as the man’s mind untangles the contractual issues facing his company. Merlin finds himself envying Arthur’s ability to simultaneously conduct business while jerking Merlin off. Arthur’s free hand grabs Merlin’s wrist and pulls Merlin’s hand towards him.

“By himself? Isn’t that a little much?” the phone answers. Merlin’s hand is led to rest on top of Arthur’s jeans. Arthur’s hand lays on top of his and Merlin can feel how hard Arthur is underneath. The denim is tight against his length and Arthur guides Merlin to rub against the bulge of his cock. Arthur’s excitement is obvious and Merlin finds the thought entirely too erotic as he remembers Arthur’s lack of underwear. Arthur’s hand has increased its tempo along Merlin’s shaft and the young pool player finds his hips rolling slightly under the CEO’s ministrations. Completely caught in the waves of carnal pleasure, Merlin grasps at Arthur through his jeans, massaging him the best he can through the constricted fabric.

“Mm,” Arthur responds to Merlin’s efforts. A brief moment ticks past before Arthur speaks. “He can call in whomever he likes, but the responsibility will lay solely on his head. Send the finished draft to me as soon as it’s done.” Arthur’s hand leaves Merlin’s as its guidance is obviously unneeded. He grabs Merlin’s shoulder and leans him back slightly. Arthur’s mouth descends upon a hardened nipple, aggressivley suckeling upon the tightened flesh. A gasping moan escapes from Merlin’s throat and Arthur withdraws his attack quickly.

“That’s all,” Arthur proclaims as he releases Merlin before grabbing the phone to stab a finger at the ‘end’ button. The phone is thrown back down to land who knows where as Arthur now directs his full attention on Merlin. He stands squarely before Merlin giving Merlin the opportunity to see every amazing facet of his well defined chest. Despite Merlin’s unbridled cravings for the man before him, Merlin finds himself edging away from Arthur. But the pool table behind him leaves him no escape. A hand is placed on either side of Merlin caging him completely. 

Merlin succumbs to Arthur’s advances and soon finds himself half lying against the red felt of the pool table, elbows propping him up to keep his eyes locked with Arthur’s. His pulse hammers in his ears as his lower half dangles over the edge helplessly. His eyes drink in details of Arthur’s flesh as his aggressor skillfully position himself between Merlin’s legs. Merlin finds himself content to watch the lines of Arthur’s well defined arms shift as his hands wrap around Merlin’s calves. Lifting them, Arthur leads those legs around his waist just above his jeans. Merlin’s hardened self rubs against the abrasive denim of Arthur’s pants and Merlin can feel Arthur still straining beneath the fabric. Arthur moves to hover over Merlin, his hands on either side of Merlin and for a brief moment, Merlin again feels the desire to run, escape. It’s too much to have Arthur on top of him, staring at his naked form, playing with him to the point where Merlin may go insane. But Arthur’s face is there, holding all type of want while looking at what Merlin knows to be a frail, skinny and overall awkward kid. Perhaps Arthur is the one who is going insane. 

“You haven’t said the magic word,” Arthur croons.

Merlin blinks as Arthur lifts a hand off the pool table to trace the line of Merlin’s jaw. Arthur’s eyes follow his finger’s lead to Merlin’s chin. Then down his throat and past his adam’s apple. Merlin’s eyes close. To his collarbone. His sternum. Solar plexus. Merlin trembles. Navel. Abdomen. Merlin whimpers.

Arthur reacts to the whimper in every way Merlin had… feared? Yes, the Merlin ten minutes ago may have been hesitant and reluctant to provoke this man, but the Merlin now… Arthur’s throaty growl melts Merlin before Arthur’s lips even reach his flesh. He feels Arthur’s teeth on his neck as Arthur holds him in place, one hand clutching at Merlin’s hip, the other pressing against his back as if to draw Merlin further in. Arthur’s hips rock against Merlin and Merlin’s hand grips at Arthur’s side, ready to both pull him closer and push him away. The mouth moves its way to his throat, lips wrapping around his adam’s apple in a suckling kiss. The hand that had been at Merlin’s hip moves beneath his thigh digging into his flesh. Merlin’s breath grows heavier as Arthur’s mouth moves down further to Merlin’s chest, kissing his sternum before moving again. The arousal Merlin feels is obvious in many ways, one of which being his already hardened nipples. They are a perfect target for Arthur’s lust and his tongue soon begins to circle its prey. His mouth follows, sucking at the delicate piece of flesh for a moment before his teeth tease with a slight nip. No longer is Merlin controlling any sound coming from his mouth. His breath comes in pants and gasps, and whimpers and moans consume him as a hand weaves its way into Arthur’s hair. Merlin feels his hips moving in a slight rhythm against Arthur’s as if aching for more. But Arthur’s jeans remain in place and the texture chafes against Merlin’s bare skin. Merlin’s hand turns traitor and reaches between them to rub against Arthur’s jeans. He quickly finds his target and palms the swollen denim. Arthur’s voice rises to meet Merlin’s in reward for his service. Arthur’s tongue flicks at Merlin’s nipple again before pulling just inches away. His eyes close in an elongated blink before Merlin stills his hand. Arthur’s motions cease as well and for a moment Arthur seems lost in thought. Perhaps he is thinking about removing the last barrier between them and releasing himself from his denim cage. Or maybe his thoughts are simply how to best antagonize his victim with his next attack. Merlin can barely begin to wonder as Arthur’s mouth hovers above the abused nipple, his breath almost torturous against the wet flesh.

As the fervid attack pauses, Merlin regains a sliver of conscious thought. His hand slides away from Arthur and he begins to realize that he’s about to lose a very dangerous game. Merlin’s legs shift downwards to wrap around the back of Arthur’s thighs as Arthur shifts to come face to face with his prey. A hand settles on the back of Merlin’s neck holding him gently and soon all thoughts of the world beyond this moment are quickly shepherded back to the recesses of Merlin’s brain. Arthur is there and he is all Merlin can see. The distance between them is nonexistent and soon their foreheads touch. 

Somehow, Merlin knows. Arthur is going to kiss him. And Merlin’s everything will unravel in an instant.

Arthur’s hand is at Merlin’s hip again, fingers massaging hip bones that stick out a bit too much. The other hand is knotted in the scraggly black hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck. Merlin can feel Arthur’s breath against his lips.

“...mmm. St.. stop..”

The word is little more than a breath between moans, but Arthur freezes. Arthur’s lips are close enough that Merlin can feel their breath upon his own. But the distance has grown again and the space between the two is achingly large in that unending moment. Merlin can feel a tremor pass through Arthur’s frame as the fingers at Merlin’s hip dig in ever so slightly. And then Arthur’s moving, pushing himself away from Merlin and turning his back toward his would be conquest. The sudden emptiness around Merlin feels vast and the air chills flesh that only moments ago bathed in Arthur’s warmth. Merlin watches as Arthur walks around the bar to grab himself a beer. Not one look is sent Merlin’s way as Merlin straightens himself upon the pool table. He feels a hollowness permeate every cell of his being. He had said stop. He had said it. But why? Why does he now feel so empty? He silently removes himself from the table as he tucks himself back within his boxers. He figures the game is over as he walks around the room picking up the rest of his clothing. He doesn’t dare glance towards Arthur. 

Merlin knows that when he says stop, Arthur will. It’s the ‘magic word’. The rule has been tried and tested and Arthur has always adhered to the terms of their game, immediately ending his advances and backing off once the word has been said. This had been the first time he paused. This had been the first time that Merlin felt as if Arthur had had to rip himself away from Merlin. The first time his wicked smile and lustful eyes weren’t promptly sent back at Merlin. And this had been the first time Merlin had honestly hoped that Arthur wouldn’t listen.

Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, Merlin chances a look over to the bar. 

And there he is, beer in hand and wicked smile on his face, watching Merlin bend over to retrieve his clothes. 

Arthur. As if he isn’t bothered at all.

Merlin has to look away, his heart clenching inside his chest. 

_Dammit._

“We should play again sometime. I like seeing you naked.” Arthur’s tone holds nothing but his normal confidence. It’s all a game. Always just a game, a lost bet. 

And that’s fine with Merlin. He’s fine. Everything is fine.


	4. The Second Month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two months have past and still Merlin is trying to sort out exactly what he feels and what he wants to feel.

But they hadn’t played Strip Pool again, despite Arthur’s comment on Merlin’s nakedness. Arthur had taken to grabbing Merlin’s ass while Merlin was lining up a shot, never ceasing to be amused by the resulting chaos on the table. The cue ball was quite likely to go in any direction other than the one Merlin wanted. Arthur liked to whisper not so sweet somethings into Merlin’s ear before nipping at the sensitive flesh. He seemed even more likely to drag Merlin against a wall for a bout of neck kissing and hip grinding, which often resulted in a search for one or more articles of discarded clothing. Arthur's lascivious nature had not diminished in the slightest. The deflated feelings that had lingered in Merlin after that particular night a month ago had been swept away by Arthur’s persistent smile. 

But never again had Merlin felt Arthur's desire to kiss him.  


Two months since Merlin’s first loss against Arthur and he finds himself once again standing before the door to the pool room, pretending to study the grain of the wood. He silently wonders why he is hesitant to enter, but part of him knows that he’s just ignoring the answer as it lays curled up in the farthest reaches of his mind. The truth is that he can’t face Arthur, not while this feeling pools in the pit of his stomach.

The past few weeks had been heated for sure and Arthur had continued to find entertainment in teasing his visitor.  
And every time Merlin left, the hollowness had returned.

Arthur is waiting on a bar stool when Merlin finally gains the spirit to walk through the door. It’s a common enough scene and it leaves Merlin wondering how a corporate businessman has time to wait for his weekend dalliance. 

The beginning is always the same. Merlin plays pool. It’s his reason for existing in this mansion, in this space. If he didn’t play, he had no reason at all to exist in Arthur’s world. So he plays, pretending to be the Wizard he once was. 

Sure enough, it doesn’t take long for Arthur to forgo his place at the bar. The distance between him and Merlin closes, and Merlin’s skin already feels warm as if Arthur has conditioned Merlin’s nerves to sense his approach. But Arthur comes up short, leaning against the table. 

“I’ve noticed before but your technique is rather unusual,” Arthur observes.

“Unusual?” Merlin has always felt that he plays within the limits of normality. 

“It’s not exactly the typical style. How you hold the stick at times is a bit unique. Makes me wonder how you learned is all.”

“A middle aged man picked me up a few years ago and we had a month of dedicated training if you know what I mean.” It’s a joke. Of course, there was no middle aged man. Of course, there was no month long training. Of course, Merlin would never jump into some strange man’s bed. But somehow Arthur grabs Merlin’s wrist and pulls. He isn’t quite sure how the motions went but Merlin is now facing Arthur, their eyes locked together and Arthur’s blues eyes burn with a destructive fire. Merlin feels himself freeze as the depths of those eyes bore into him. He has no idea where this fire is coming from. It’s different from the lustful hunger or the wicked temptation.

“Um… I’m joking.” Merlin’s unease pulls the words from his throat. Arthur lets his wrist fall from his grasp and Merlin watches him walk back to the bar with welling curiosity. A hint of frustration plays across Arthur’s movements and Merlin finds himself wondering. Could the thought of Merlin’s past lovers really cause any stir within a being such as Arthur Pendragon? 

“I’m self-taught for the most part,” he offers in an attempt to turn the tide. “There was a bar at the end of the street I grew up on. Just a hole in the wall really. But the owner was a friend of my mom’s and he let me shoot after school while she was at work.”

“What did she do?” Arthur asks absently as he studies the counter of the bar.

“Everything, anything. Whatever paid the bills.” Merlin wants to give Arthur the time to collect himself but he begins to feel small as he speaks, as if recounting his childhood could somehow revert him into the child he once was. The feeling grows as he continues and he wonders if maybe this wasn’t a good topic of conversation. “We didn’t have money. And my dad…”

Arthur’s eyes move to take Merlin in as Merlin pauses. Those blue eyes urge him to continue, but Arthur remains silent and Merlin is grateful for the consideration. His mind is tumbling over itself as it tries to grasp the proper way to explain his situation to someone like Arthur Pendragon. He finds himself desperately wanting Arthur to understand, and not in that way that everyone says they understand. He wants Arthur to know what it was to be Merlin back then and what led him to become the Merlin he is now.

“It was just me and my mom,” Merlin continues carefully. “I know she did everything for me. Everything she could. She wanted me to-” Memories cascade through Merlin’s mind as he tries to order his thoughts. “She didn’t want me to know… how bad off we were. But I know her shoes were falling off her feet while I was always properly clothed. I know there were days she skipped meals just to keep me fed. I know I had a night light to keep the monsters away... even though she could barely pay the electric bill.”

Merlin gives himself a moment as he tries to get a grip on the memories that flash through his mind, but they will not go quietly. There are images of his mother smiling, tired and worn. Images of her driving away as he sat on Will’s porch knowing that he wouldn’t see her until the next night. Echoed sounds of selfish arguments and undeserved harshities. Days of loneliness in an empty house. He needs to be silent, fearing that these images will choke any words in his throat. He knows his explanation is not enough, that there’s so much more that Arthur needs to understand, but he can’t say anymore. Not about that. The memories hover in his mind and he sniffles once to set himself straight before he continues.

“I left home as soon as I turned 18. I haven’t been back since. I’ve got a job at a bookstore and I make extra cash playing pool. I can do enough to take care of myself for the most part. I make sure to call my mom and let her know I’m good and make sure she’s okay. But I can’t go back.” Merlin falls quiet.

“She sounds like a wonderful mother.” The tenderness in Arthur’s words squeezes at Merlin’s heart and the best sensations of his mother swell within him, all the things about her that he can never explain. The sight of her amazing smile as she laughed, the smell that clung to her that was hers and hers alone, the feeling of her hand against his head as she smoothed his disheveled hair every chance she got.

“She is. She’s the best,” Merlin chokes. He sets his sight on the pool table but the image is blurry with the wet of his eyes. He blinks, forcing the unshed tears to retreat. He can’t lose it now. Not now. 

“Why didn’t you stay?” Arthur’s voice is soft against the hushed room. Merlin had felt that question coming, but he still needs a moment before he answers. Arthur waits patiently until Merlin is ready.

“I knew she wouldn’t stop. No matter what I did or said, she just-” Merlin can hear his words come out in a voice that sounds worn and thin to his ears. “She would sacrifice anything for me.  
She did sacrifice everything for me. And she wouldn’t stop.” He pauses, not quite sure what more he can say to make Arthur understand. “So I stopped it.”

“You left,” Arthur clarifies the final statement. Merlin nods silently, not confident enough to do more. “Couldn’t you just go to visit if you miss her so much?”

“She’d put herself out,” Merlin knows the answer immediately as he’s asked himself the same question hundreds of times over the past two years. “She’d take time off of work and fix a big meal. She’d want to do things for me, wash my clothes or cut my hair. I don’t want any of that. I would just want to see her.”

An uneasy silence fills the room. Dread begins to seep through Merlin. All the mystery and illusion that he may have once had must now be shattered in Arthur’s mind. Merlin is utterly exposed, his heavy armor falling away. He’s small and vulnerable and weak. And he knows. He knows that he made his mother suffer and not with the fights or selfish acts of a child. He knows that his mother suffered just because he was her son. And for all the words that he has at his disposal, he knows that he cannot convey everything that he is. Or everything that he isn’t. He knows that this ache that dwells within him can’t be understood. He can’t make Arthur understand. He knows that he can’t now and he feels stupid for ever thinking he could. Truly, Merlin must be the King Idiot in all of Idiocracy.

“Well once you’re a famous pool player, none of that will matter. I’m sure you’ll use your fortune to provide for everything under the sun.” Leave it to Arthur to destroy any hint of awkwardness between them. Merlin feels himself thaw with Arthur’s casual tone. 

“Oh sure. Let me know if your Dad plans on selling this place. I could use a summer home,” Merlin retorted with a weak spirit.

“Please. I’m sure you could do better. Something in French Polynesia perhaps.”

“I’m more of a city boy. How about London?”

“I could definitely do London.” Arthur’s words leave Merlin a bit dumbstruck, but his spirits feel buoyed by Arthur’s banter all the same. “Of course, the documentary on the ‘Life of the Wizard’ will be riveting.”

“Sure. Especially that part where the ‘Wizard’ loses a bet to the ‘Future King’.” Merlin laughs.

“Yeah. That part’s the best.” There is no hint of a joke in Arthur’s voice and Merlin finds himself looking toward the man, trying to ascertain his meaning. But Arthur looks straight back at him with no hint of sarcasm and no regret. The words are earnest and heavy and Merlin can feel the weight of them sitting on his chest. The need to move possesses Merlin’s limbs and he looks back to the pool table.

“I better get practicing then.” Merlin lifts his cue as Arthur remains unmoved. Merlin would feel more at ease if Arthur had retorted with some more witty banter, but he just watches Merlin circle the table taking shot after shot. The conversation had been abandoned completely and Merlin can feel the effects of Arthur’s words spinning in his head. What had Arthur meant? Merlin thought of everything and nothing that he could have implied throughout the quick conversation. 

His brain permeated with all things Arthur, Merlin walks around the table, cue in hand, to prepare for his next shot. But he finds he never makes it to his destination. Fingers find their way to his wrist, begging him to stop in his path.

“Merlin…”

Merlin can’t remember ever hearing Arthur say his name. Two people alone don’t have much use for such things. But in this moment, Arthur seems to have a desperate need for that name. He breathes the name into the air and Merlin is struck by the weight of it on Arthur’s lips. The sound is so pure, it sounds like a prayer, a plea. His name is the breath sent wishing across the candle’s flame. He turns to Arthur before he can think and the two just stare.

Somewhere Merlin still feels Arthur’s hand surrounding his left wrist, a chain binding him to his spot. But even without that shackle Merlin knows he wouldn’t be able to escape from Arthur. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

Arthur leans back, regaining his seat on the bar stool. But he doesn’t release Merlin’s wrist and Merlin finds himself being drawn in once more. Arthur would be staring at Merlin’s collarbone if his eyes were facing forward. But they aren’t. They are tilted upward, fixing their predatory gaze on Merlin’s face. 

Arthur’s hand releases the wrist it had bound, leaving both hands free to grab Merlin’s hips. They spend a moment locked in position. Then they move, massaging through jeans, fingers digging into Merlin’s sides while thumbs hook on his pelvic bones. Arthur’s face turns down to watch his hands grip at Merlin as if studying the supple skin that lies beneath. Merlin can feel Arthur’s hands kneading at him before rubbing upwards under his shirt. His sides ache as Arthur’s hands run over them, thumbs barely reaching to grazing his abdomen, fingers skimming over his back. Merlin’s eyes close in a feeble attempt to keep the room from shifting. Arthur’s legs wrap behind Merlin’s calves drawing him even further into the man’s embrace. Merlin clutches to his pool cue, leaning on it for support as needed. His tongue wets his lips which have dried from his lustful breathes. Hands angle to run across Merlin’s back, one sliding up to cup his shoulder blade while the other plays over his spine. They massage at his skin before securing his tee halfway up his torso.

“You’re skin and bones.” 

Merlin never discovers the intention behind Arthur’s words as Arthur’s lips meet his stomach before he can respond. Merlin’s eyes go wide as he grasps at his cue, willing it to keep him verticle while Arthur proceeds to kiss him over and over again. One hand trails down Merlin’s spine, pressing his stomach further into Arthur’s waiting mouth which has only become more ravenous. Tongue, lips, teeth, everything is attacking Merlin’s flesh with soft, decadent sensations.

Almost as if without motion, Arthur is on his feet. Merlin’s cue is forgotten as it falls to the floor, his shirt being slid over his head by Arthur’s adroit hands. He steps back only to be countered by Arthur stepping with him. No room is gained. Seeming to forgo some of the delicacy displayed moments earlier, Arthur’s hands grab at the waist of Merlin’s jeans and pull him in, the button becoming undone in the fray. The necessity to feel flesh upon flesh seems to diminish any patience Arthur has and frenzied hands rip Merlin’s the zipper downward before shoving themselves inside Merlin’s boxers to grab at the flesh of his hips. He grabs at Arthur’s biceps, trying to hold himself steady, trying to hold the world in place, maybe trying to hold Arthur in a frozen moment. But the moment won’t freeze and Arthur won’t relent and Merlin’s head just can’t catch up.

Arthur’s need has them both consumed and his hands are everywhere; his arms wrapping around Merlin to embrace him, to catch him. Merlin can’t move. A hand digs into the flesh of Merlin’s ass as the other grips at his back. The sheer desire of Arthur’s attacks bombards Merlin’s every thought. Arthur’s mouth is at Merlin’s shoulder, a kiss and a lick. And then his teeth graze Merlin’s flesh and a growl rumbles from Arthur’s throat. Merlin groans in answer as his own hands find their way under Arthur’s shirt to clutch against his back. His knees are already bending under Arthur’s attack and he knows that he would have already fallen to the ground if not for the body pressed against him. He needs to collect himself, but the onslaught gives him no room. 

“ ...wait,” Merlin breathes.

“No.” The answer is short and clipped and allows no time before Arthur is back to ravaging all that is Merlin.

Merlin groans again as Arthur bites at his neck, his nails raking along Merlin’s back. Merlin can feel himself sinking towards the ground. He doesn’t want to stop but Arthur’s arms are the only things keeping him from dissolving. A hand presses Merlin’s hip even closer and he can feel Arthur fully, just under the fabric of his designer jeans. He’s hard and hot and desperate to be released. Merlin’s jeans slip down a bit as a hand moves back down to clutch as his ass again. Arthur’s mouth is moving, at his neck, his throat, his collarbone and back up. Merlin’s shoulder, his neck again and then to his ear. Arthur’s tongue flicks at Merlin’s earlobe before his mouth descends to suck then bite. Arthur’s existence has become a whirlwind of wanton desire. Fingers pinch at one of Merlin’s nipples and a groan of pleasure manages to escape his lips as his own fingers dig into Arthur’s back. Another growl from Arthur as his breath flows over the damp skin sending a shiver through the core of Merlin’s self. And he’s falling, sinking to the floor and Arthur along with him. Arthur leads him down, the hand that once grabbed at Merlin now cradles him, easing Merlin to straddle him as he kneels upon the floor.

Arthur doesn’t allow Merlin a moment to put the world straight. The well ordered room is in chaos in Merlin’s head as Arthur’s lips move to Merlin’s chest. His nipple becomes a toy for Arthur’s mouth as Arthur’s hand slips down the middle of Merlin’s ass. An arm encircles Merlin, giving him little chance to do more that wiggle in Arthur’s lap. Merlin’s breath is heavy with a voice that can no longer be restrained and his sounds drive Arthur, urging him on despite Merlin’s own hesitance. Arthur’s fingers find Merlin’s hole and begin to pet at the delicate flesh. Instantly, Merlin’s eyes flare open.

“Wait.” Merlin’s voice is clear and urgent.

“No.” Arthur breathes the word onto Merlin’s moistened nipple before shifting his attention to the other. Arthur’s finger continues to pet at Merlin, rubbing back and forth over his entrance. Merlin could say stop. He could. It’s the magic word. But does he want it to stop? Arthur’s attack continues without mercy. Merlin can’t think. He just needs a moment to think.

“...wait.. just... wait.” Merlin’s words are gasps and moans and he just _can’t think!_

“Why?”

Merlin’s brain stops as Arthur brings his face to confront Merlin. The carnal storm dies as the question envelopes the room, but Merlin isn’t foolish enough to think that Arthur’s appetite has been satiated in any way. Arthur’s finger slows over Merlin’s ass, keeping a gentle tempo as if to remind Merlin what is at stake.

“Why should I wait?” Arthur drives home the question after a moment of silence. The sudden stillness seems to do nothing to help Merlin control his body. His arousal is better matched by Arthur’s overwhelming attention. This motionless pose makes Merlin’s entire being ache. But there it is, the quiet strumming of Arthur’s finger. A tremble runs through Merlin and he can no longer meet Arthur’s gaze. 

“Because it’s going to hurt,” Merlin admits.

The meaning of these words do not appear to be lost to Arthur. As Merlin casts a glance at Arthur’s face, he can see the man’s cheeks tensing to barely hold back what would surely be an enormous grin. He’s done for, and he knows it. He finds himself struggling to push away from Arthur, not wanting to lose himself to such a callous intent. But Arthur holds him close and a hand draws Merlin’s eyes up to meet those amazing blue eyes. The lustful nature has softened and Merlin finds the fight draining from his limbs. Arthur pulls Merlin closer until their foreheads touch. Arthur answers, his words ringing clear and true through Merlin’s entire body.

“Nothing I do is meant to hurt you.”

The meaning of these words is not lost on Merlin. Arthur has stilled completely and Merlin is allowed to relax in Arthur’s gentle embrace. Merlin lifts a hand to stroke Arthur’s cheek before shifting to rest his forehead on Arthur’s shoulder. His voice is a whisper.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t…”

The knot that had been Merlin for weeks now is slowly coming undone. He knows that. And it’s too late to stop it. Merlin pushes himself away from Arthur’s shoulder and squares himself with the man he’s straddling. Arthur doesn’t seem to have heard Merlin, and Arthur’s eyes are still soft and warm. But Merlin sees the smoldering lust growing once again. The magic word has not been said and Arthur is prepared to take advantage of the opportunity. Arthur’s hand moves again to slide down Merlin’s pants, intent on teasing him.

But before Arthur can move into position, Merlin leans forward, his lips settling on Arthur’s in one fell swoop. The knot is gone and he’s become unbound.

Arthur groans beneath Merlin’s lips, his momentary surprise giving way to greater enjoyment. Merlin can feel Arthur kiss back, can feel him unwilling to let those lips separate. Merlin has no intention of doing so either, his hand already locked in Arthur’s hair pulling him close to allow for no escape. Arthur’s mouth opens and Merlin’s follows suit. A tongue reaches out to find it’s match, to lick and be licked. Arthur’s hand moves to the back of Merlin’s neck as his other finds its own destination. The teasing finger drives Merlin to heavy pants against Arthur’s kisses.

Merlin reaches his own free hand down to dive between the two, finding Arthur painfully confined against those designer jeans. With one hand, he wrestles with the button of the jeans until it gives, opening Merlin’s way to reach within. Merlin’s legs lift him upwards to his knees for a brief moment, long enough for his hand to free Arthur’s cock from its prison. But never do their lips give way to more that a fraction of space. And then Merlin’s weight is upon Arthur again as Merlin’s hand moves to drive Arthur into an even more aroused state of being. Arthur’s own hand has Merlin near the edge of mental collapse. Both the threat and the promise beat against Merlin as Arthur continues to tease his virginity.

Merlin pulls away, if only for a moment to catch his breath. Arthur's hand pulls Merlin’s head to his shoulder in an embrace. And then the hand that had been down Merlin’s pants is gone. Merlin relaxes against Arthur feeling more than a little disappointed. And then the hand is back, a finger poised to attack. The finger feels wet against Merlin’s skin and he has only a brief moment to contemplate the sensation before the finger presses against him. He straightens in Arthur's arms but Arthur’s hand hold him gently. The finger pushes and suddenly Merlin can feel the moistened flesh within him. He stifles a moan as his hands gripping at Arthur's shoulders. As the initial sensation subsides, Merlin realizes Arthur has not moved. He opens his eyes to look at Arthur and sees Arthur staring back at him as if he were the only thing worth looking at. And then Arthur moves. It’s slow and slight but the feeling is enough to make Merlin’s entire body react.

Merlin is so fixed on the new sensation that he forgets where his own hand is until he feels Arthur throb against him. Relaxing his body into Arthur’s touch, his hand wraps around Arthur's length. Merlin pants as he watches Arthur’s eyes close and those regal features turn to an expression of excruciating pleasure. Arthur growls and when his eyes open, Merlin groans with the sight of desire held within. Arthur’s gentle ministrations have gained force as Merlin gains equal momentum. Arthur buries his finger deeper and deeper within Merlin and Merlin finds his hips rolling in response. The hand that tends to Arthur positions itself to allow Merlin’s cock to slide against his own forearm, providing contact that threatens to drive Merlin over the edge.

Merlin’s eyes meet Arthur’s in a silent plea before he leans in to taste Arthur once more. The man’s lips are flavored with sun and beer and forgotten dreams. And Arthur is there, kissing him back with greed and hunger and unmitigated desire.

And the edge is met and passed as Merlin explodes, his body quaking with force. Arthur drives his finger into Merlin up to his knuckle and holds it there as Merlin erupts. His lips break away from Arthur to send a moan to the heavens, his face contorting in ecstasy. Merlin feels Arthur follow close behind, the man’s climax accompanied by silence and an expression of overwhelming relief.

The two crumble into each other, both thoroughly spent. Arthur gently removes his hand from Merlin’s pants, issuing a lazy moan from its victim. Merlin’s own hand is still wrapped around Arthur’s length, the result of their efforts covering his wrist and fingers. More can be found on Arthur’s delectable stomach, slowly working its way down his unmarred flesh. 

“We’ve made quite the mess,” Merlin points out weakly. Arthur glances down at his stomach before shrugging.

“I can’t be bothered,” he responds as nonchalant as ever. A hand lazily makes its way to gently stroke at the back of Merlin’s neck. “Did it hurt?”

“A bit,” Merlin answers honestly. “But just at first.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur responds, his voice unusually full of compassion. “Saliva really isn’t the best, but it’s better than nothing.”

Merlin pushes himself to look at Arthur, eyes asking a soundless question. Arthur smiles, his expression still a bit drunk from the effort and release. Arthur’s hand moves from the back of Merlin’s neck and a finger is presented to Merlin’s mouth. Merlin allows it access and it slides past his lips. Merlin’s tongue meets it with small licks and lazy swirls. Arthur groans as Merlin sucks his digit, his cock twitching in Merlin’s loose grasp.

“Yes, saliva. And please continue. If you want another go that is,” Arthur warns. Merlin sees the truth in that statement.

* * *

Merlin leaves the mansion that night feeling refreshed and hopeful. And a little sore. 


	5. The Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bet is at an end and Merlin finally has to confront his feelings for Arthur.

_Screw Arthur!_

Merlin’s foot connects with the surface in front of him leaving a slight scuff on the once immaculate wall. Good. Merlin kicks it again. And then again.

_Screw him! And screw his fancy house! And his tailored suits and his pretty hair…_ Merlin’s kicks lose some of their force. _...and his baby blue eyes, and his delicious lips…_

Merlin’s kicks have stopped completely and he turns, his shoulders impacting the wall. His virtue weights on him and his body slides down the surface leaving him sitting with his knees bent in front of him. _Screw heavy petting, and screw him._ His thoughts have lost all of their venom as he stares at the ceiling. 

He’s alone in the hallway having sent the servant away. He had assured her that he knew his way, which he does. The door that would lead him to Arthur is just down the hallway and to the right. It’s the same door that Merlin had walked through once a week for the past three months. And this would be the last time.

Merlin’s head drops to his chest, his hands grabbing at the back of his head. He should have said stop. He should always have said stop. If he had said stop, then he wouldn’t be sitting alone in a hallway clutching at strands of black hair with trembling fingers. If he had said stop, then he wouldn’t feel this twisting and writhing deep in his stomach. If he had said stop, then none of this would have started.

And he wouldn’t be waiting for Arthur alone in a hallway.

Merlin pushes himself off the floor to stand in one cohesive motion. He’s done waiting for a man who obviously doesn’t want him. The last month had been sweet and comfortable with plenty of concupiscent acts and devious meanderings, and Merlin had certainly gained experiences that had previously not been a part of his sexual repertoire. But there is still one act that remains unfulfilled. He can only think that Arthur has played him well. If nothing else, Arthur hasn’t provided any hint of wanting to continue this affair after tonight. And that’s just fine with Merlin. Why should he mourn the loss of his weekly visits? He’s only known the man for three months. That is by no means enough time to inspire such deep emotions, to share such a strong bond, to send him into ruin over the end of this insipid game.

He will give Arthur up tonight. He will go back to his pool hall, to his apartment, to his world.

He sets his jaw and strides down the hallway. It’s time to show Arthur that not everything moves at a king’s pace. If Arthur wants a quick bang, he can have it. But at least this time, Merlin will be calling the shots.

Merlin enters the pool room without hesitation, full of bluster and huff. 

And there is Arthur, seated in an armchair flipping through a magazine. His casual demeanor drives Merlin. The frustration is overpowering, and Merlin finds himself charging towards both an agonizing heartbreak and an unjustified anger. He slings his cue case off his shoulder and dumps it on the floor near the wall. And before he quite knows what he’s doing himself, his hands reach across his body to grab the hem of his shirt. The worn black fabric is ripped upward and the article of clothing is discarded next to his case.

Arthur watches Merlin, confusion prominent on his features.

“What’s this now?” Arthur sounds amused.

Merlin kicks off his sneakers as he begins to unbutton his jeans. 

“We both know where this is going. I think we can drop the act now.” Merlin pulls his socks off his feet as he walks towards Arthur, his jeans hanging loosely on his hips. 

“I’m sorry?” Arthur’s tone seems less amused now. Merlin grabs the magazine from Arthur and tosses it on the nearby table. His hand grabs Arthur’s wrist to pull him up from the chair.

“We both know what you want, so let’s just get it over with.” Merlin pulls Arthur forwards a bit towards the pool table before Merlin turns around, his back now to Arthur. Before he has a chance to lower his jeans, he hears Arthur scoff.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Arthur is walking away from him. He isn’t even looking at him. All Merlin can see is the back of Arthur’s head. And Merlin’s anger becomes a beast in its own right. A hand reaches out to push at the back of Arthur’s shoulder, hard enough to make the man stumble.

“What ‘idiot’? You’ve been pestering me for months-” Arthur turns around as Merlin continues. “-and I’m the idiot?”

Merlin pushes Arthur again, this time on the chest. Not even to move him, just enough to convey his anger.

“I’ve been pestering you? Who’s the one ready to drop his pants at the first sight of a good fucking?” Arthur isn’t backing down. But neither is Merlin.

“Who’s the one always shoving his hands in my pants? Every single time I’m playing, you just have to come over and start shit!”

“So what? This time you figured you’d just give up?”

“Why not? It’s better than pretending I have a choice!” Merlin’s voice gains volume as Arthur begins to pace in front of him.

“Of course you have a choice! If you don’t like it, leave!” Arthur throws a hand out, punctuating his words and Merlin can feel the dismissal in the gesture. 

“I can’t just leave, I lost the bet!”

“And that makes you my whore?”

“Well you treat me like a whore-” Before the sentence is finished, Arthur’s in front of Merlin. Merlin steps back again and again but Arthur gives him no room. Arthur’s eyes hold the fire of a thousand suns as Merlin’s retreat is blocked by the wall. A hand grabs Merlin’s wrist to hold it over his head, pinning it against the painted surface behind him. Another hand is at Merlin’s throat, a finger lining his jaw holding him in place. Arthur’s mouth is inches from his ear but the sweet whispers are gone. His words are clear and hard and cut like the sharpest of swords.

“If I wanted a whore, I would have bought a whore. God knows I have enough money I could have bought even you, if that’s what I had wanted-” It isn’t a stab in his heart nor the shattering of his core. It’s nothing so localized, so easy pointed at. It’s a countless number of tiniest shards of glass coursing through his entire being, shredding every vein and muscle, every extremity. 

Merlin doesn’t let Arthur finish. The thrum of adrenaline aids Merlin as he shoves against Arthur as thoroughly as he can, his own words punctuating his movements. “I’ll never be your whore!”

He breaks past Arthur, not daring to look the man in the face as he buttons his pants and heads towards the pile of discarded clothes.

“Who the hell would want that?” Arthur continues the fight even after his opponent has withdrawn. Merlin grabs his sneakers and shoves his naked feet inside. He can feel Arthur pacing the room behind him.

“I’ve wanted men before, but never enough to pay for them!” Arthur’s words carry on through the room as Merlin tries to scoop up his clothes. He doesn’t want to leave anything behind, he doesn’t want any excuse to come back. “They’ve been easy, a gentle smile, a wandering hand. I’ve never had to try so hard!” Arthur’s voice is loud and angry and the words make Merlin feel like a fool. 

“I’ve never wanted anyone so much to try so hard! I’ve never wanted anyone so much that I would bet fifty thousand dollars on a game of pool!” Arthur’s voice is full of disbelief. “I’ve never wanted someone to want me! I’ve never wanted anyone to want me as much as I want you to-”

“STOP!”

Merlin stands by his clothes, his hands having released them back to the floor. He turns to look at Arthur.

The magic word has always been to keep Arthur from going too far, to keep him from doing something that Merlin didn’t want. But now it had been used to silence him. His confusion is obvious and Merlin wonders for a moment if Arthur may just keep going. He seems like he’s about to. Merlin takes a step towards Arthur.

“Stop,” Merlin says again, his voice level.

And Arthur does. He unfreezes just enough to stand straight and to firm his mouth into a tight line. Merlin casts his eyes to the ground as he starts to walk towards Arthur.

“What ‘idiot’? Who’s the idiot?” Merlin speaks the words for noone but himself. He stands in front of Arthur but his eyes can’t meet the man’s face.

“Idiot.” The word is directed at Arthur as Merlin’s hand reaches out to push against Arthur’s chest. And then his hand is grabbing at Arthur’s shirt, the fabric squeezed in his balled fist. “Of course I want you.”

The spell doesn’t seem to break. Arthur is still frozen, barely moving beneath Merlin’s touch. His other hand raises to join the first, the front of Arthur’s shirt now at the mercy of Merlin’s grip.

“Of course I want you!” He can’t help but yell as his hands begin to shake Arthur before releasing the fabric. His hands go to his face, rubbing away at the last bit of tension as he steps away. His frustration, his insecurities, his tenuous grip on control, everything disappears.

Merlin sinks down into the arm chair that had held Arthur not so long ago. The chair still holds a hint of Arthur’s warmth and Merlin wonders at how much had happened in such a short amount of time. He finds himself smiling at the absurdity of it all. Arthur had wanted him? It must be a joke, a prank that he’s already internally laughing at. And then he looks at Arthur.

Arthur is dumbstruck, regarding Merlin from an obviously awkward stance. His mouth is slightly parted, as if to question everything that had just happened. Then his lips close, confusion wrinkling his brow, only to have them open again in a silent question. 

And Merlin can’t take it anymore. His head falls, his forehead leaning into an awaiting palm as he laughs. He just laughs. At the world, at himself, at Arthur’s poor impression of a fish out of water. He laughs. But mostly he laughs at the incompetence of his own heart.

When his laughter dies down, he peers up at Arthur, who hasn’t moved this whole time. Merlin stands and steps towards Arthur. “You idiot.”

And then Merlin’s lips are against Arthur’s, feeling their softness and tasting their unique flavor. His tongue moves into Arthur’s mouth to taste him fully. Merlin’s hand finds its way to the back of Arthur’s neck pulling him in deeper. Arthur reaches for Merlin’s hips but the touch is light and full of trepidation. 

He really is an idiot, thinks Merlin as he pushes his body into Arthur’s. A soft moan escapes Arthur’s lips. Merlin’s hands find their way to the front of Arthur’s shirt and begin to unbutton his clothes. Merlin begins to walk forward, forcing Arthur back and soon enough Arthur connects with the pool table.

The last button comes undone and Merlin eases Arthur’s shirt off his shoulders until it’s hanging from his elbows. Merlin looks at his amazing physique before lowering his head to lightly kiss the center of Arthur’s chest. He kisses again a bit higher. And then again, higher still. Again and again trailing his way upward. He pauses to nip at Arthur’s collarbone before proceeding up to his shoulder, then his neck. Arthur’s breaths are heavy and Merlin can feel him getting harder in his pants. 

“Wait.” The words seems strange from Arthur’s lips.

“No,” Merlin replies. He nibbles at Arthur’s earlobe before taking it in his mouth. His tongue flicks over the soft piece of flesh before releasing it to lick the edge of Arthur’s ear. He releases a breath against the wet flesh as his hand grips harder at the back of Arthur’s neck. His body pushes against Arthur’s in a blatant display of his desire.

“Wait…” Arthur repeats.

“Why should I?” Merlin loves turning the words back at Arthur, knowing that his whispered breath is tormenting Arthur’s already alert senses. He shifts his body against Arthur’s, the naked skin of Arthur’s chest feels hot against Merlin’s bare torso. He can feel Arthur’s arousal pinned between the two of them as is his own hardened self.

An animalistic sound rumbles in Arthur’s throat as he grabs Merlin’s shoulders and pushes him away. But he doesn’t release him. He holds Merlin there at arm’s length, panting for a moment in an attempt to regain control.

“What are you doing?” Arthur demands.

“If you don’t like it, all you have to say is stop.” Merlin’s shoulder pushes against the restraining hands and they give enough that Merlin can reach Arthur’s pants. His fingers make quick work of the fasteners. One of Arthur’s hands lets go of Merlin to land on the pool table behind him, supporting him.

“What game are you playing at now?” Arthur questions.

Merlin pushes Arthur’s other hand away, freeing himself to move close once again. His own hand finds his way into Arthur’s pants to wrap around Arthur’s throbbing erection. “No more games, Arthur.”

The chains are undone, the binds broken. Arthur pushes himself off the pool table with a lustful growl and attacks Merlin’s lips with his own. His hands hold the sides of Merlin’s head as he buries his tongue deep in Merlin’s mouth. 

Merlin’s hand does not release its grip on Arthur’s cock. In fact, he finds himself stroking the man even harder, wanting nothing more than to fall into insanity together. Arthur releases his hold on Merlin’s head only to move his hand down to Merlin’s pants. Soon enough, Merlin’s jeans are open and Arthur is kneading at his hips. 

And then Arthur pulls back again. Merlin’s hand wrenches free from Arthur’s pants and Merlin watches as a visible shudder runs through Arthur. He appears to be on the brink of losing control. “You really do need to wait this time,” Arthur warns.

Merlin is a bit confused, but he decides to trust Arthur as Arthur lets his shirt slide off him and tosses it in toward the armchair. He walks away towards the bar and Merlin leans against the pool table. He kicks off his sneakers, aiming them for his pile of clothes. He reaches down to adjust himself, angling his erection upwards instead of down the length of his pants. 

It doesn’t take long for Arthur to return, a small clear squeeze bottle in hand.

Merlin mentally applauds Arthur’s restraint. In the past few weeks, there had been a few occasions where Arthur’s desire had gotten the better of him and he elected to wet his fingers with his (or Merlin’s) mouth rather than pause to retrieve the necessary lube. Arthur sets the bottle atop the pool table as his steps slow.

“How long?” Arthur asks.

“Hm?” 

Arthur comes to stand in front of Merlin. A hand reaches out to grab at the waistline of his jeans. “How long have you wanted me?”

Arthur’s eyes stare at his own fingers as they hook over the fabric, running back and forth along Merlin’s skin. Merlin watches as well, seeing his hardened self peeking out from his jeans. He throbs at the thought of Arthur fingers being so close.

“I dunno. Maybe always,” Merlin answers honestly. Arthur moves both hands to Merlin’s jeans, pinching the fabric between his fingers. “Before I knew it, it was already there. I just didn’t want to… “ Merlin trails off, not quite sure how to express the past months to Arthur. “I thought… I thought - if I gave in - I thought I’d break.”

A shiver runs through Arthur’s body and he takes a step closer to Merlin. He gently leans the side his head against Merlin’s.

“You thought I’d break you…” Arthur’s voice is quiet and Merlin can’t deny his words. He had been blind to so much, but as open as his eyes are in this moment, he still can’t see why Arthur would want him.

“It doesn’t matter.” Merlin’s already decided.

“I wouldn’t-”

“It doesn’t matter because I feel empty without you.” Merlin cuts Arthur off. Arthur sighs into Merlin’s ear.

“Merlin.” Arthur kisses Merlin’s temple before pulling back. His eyes stare into Merlin’s. Merlin feels as if Arthur is trying to put his entire existence into those eyes. “I won’t break you.” It’s a vow, a promise. That’s how Merlin hears it. But he doesn’t have time to respond before Arthur begins to slide his jeans off, boxers and all. Arthur pushes them down to the floor and lifts Merlin’s feet, one after the other, releasing the clothes to be tossed in the vague direction of the pile. As he rises, Arthur’s eyes travel over every visible inch of Merlin. 

Merlin points at Arthur’s own pants. “No fair.”

A wicked smile graces Arthur’s features as his body bends to remove his pants. His eyes never leave Merlin’s face. A leg bends to makes its own way out of the fabric and then extends down to allow the other leg the same chance at freedom. Arthur straightens holding his pants in front of himself for a moment before tossing them towards the armchair. Merlin’s breath is tight in his throat and he feels himself twitch at the mere sight of Arthur in all his glory.

And then Arthur is there, his arms around Merlin. His lips bestow a kiss of promise more earnest than a thousand words. And Merlin is so very grateful for that, for words are so beyond his bounds of comprehension in this moment and all he can do is kiss Arthur back.

Soon enough, Arthur’s mouth has Merlin burning for more, his desire blazing within him and aching to consume them both. Their mouths become desperate for more as hands flow over flesh without restriction. Merlin’s hand reaches down to find Arthur’s throbbing length as Arthur grips into Merlin’s hips. Merlin pulls at Arthur in a slow and steady rhythm and soon Arthur’s breath is full of moans. Arthur’s hands massage at Merlin’s ass but Merlin can tell that Arthur is losing his restraint. A hand slips down to rub past Merlin’s hole and Merlin moans in turn. Arthur releases Merlin to reach for the bottle on the pool table, but Merlin does not relinquish his grasp on Arthur, squeezing a bit harder as he massages Arthur’s cock. Arthur stumbles a bit in his stretch, his hand landing on the edge of the pool table as he moans.

“Merlin.” The name is a growl as Arthur casts his lascivious glare at Merlin. Merlin tries to imitate Arthur’s wicked smile as squeezes again along the tip. A moan is exhaled as proof of a job well done. But Arthur is now more intent than ever on his objective. A hand is shot out down the pool table and the bottle is retrieved. Arthur turns his full attention back on Merlin. A hand pushes Merlin backwards and before he can adjust, he’s staring at the ceiling from atop the pool table. A bottle is set on the table next to him and as he turns to look at it, he notices that the top is no longer closed. Damn, that Arthur is fast when he wants to be. 

No sooner has the thought crossed his mind before lubricated fingers find the way to his entrance. One presses in quickly and Merlin moans in pleasure. A second follows in haste and Merlin feels his erection ache from arousal. Arthur allows a few thrusts before a third finger joins. Merlin arches his back as the sensation drives all logic from his head. Arthur’s free hand begins to tease at Merlin’s nipples. 

And right when he thinks he can’t take anymore, Arthur stops. The world hums in silence as the sensations of Arthur’s touch echo throughout Merlin’s body. Merlin had thought that he would go insane from Arthur’s attentions, but this silence is worse. The unfulfilled longing ripping through his body will surely be the end to all rational thought. And just as Merlin thinks he may lose control of every inch of himself, hands wrap around his thighs to pull his hips just off the edge of the pool table. 

And Arthur is there. Hot and hard and unyielding, he positions himself to put Merlin out of his misery.

With a slow push, Merlin feels himself stretch. He holds his breath as he feels Arthur ease his way inside. 

“Relax.”

Merlin opens his eyes to look down. Or across. Or up. He’s not sure where he’s looking, but wherever it is, there is Arthur. His eyes are filled with desire, but his face is one of patience. Merlin licks his dried lips and feels his breath return to him. While hypnotize by Arthur’s gaze, Arthur begins to move slowly within him. Small, gentle rocking motions and Merlin feels himself easing with the rhythm. He hardly notices as Arthur begins to move deeper. Then deeper. Arthur increases his speed as Merlin relaxes into the overwhelming sensation.

Merlin’s breaths are soon pants and he finds himself wanting more and more still. He wants to feel more of Arthur. He wants to feel all of Arthur.

And he does soon enough. Arthur moans loudly as the entirety of his cock is swallowed by Merlin’s flesh, his hips pressing into Merlin as if he too wants more. Arthur holds himself there for a moment, and then arms surround Merlin. To his dismay, he is lifted off the pool table. Arthur lowers him down to the floor, never removing himself from his partner. As soon as Merlin meets the surface, Arthur begins to move again. Arthur’s hand reaches down to wrap around Merlin’s hardened member, pumping him with the same unabating rhythm. Merlin’s hands push at the ground beneath him, his hips rocking with Arthur as he loses all sense of propriety. Merlin can feel himself on the edge and opens his eyes. He wants to see Arthur, to know that he is the one causing this pleasure. Arthur’s thrusts have become unrelenting. His restraint is gone and he can no longer control his desire. He pushes his way into Merlin time and again, as if he were engraving himself into Merlin’s entire being. A hand grips Merlin’s shaft while another claws at his thigh. And then Arthur is as deep as he can be, holding himself there as he cums. The sensation quickly pushes Merlin past his limit and he joins Arthur in ecstasy. A held breath pushes its way passed Arthur’s lips with a heavy groan. His length still throbbing inside Merlin, Arthur lowers himself to kiss Merlin deeply and thoroughly.

Only when Arthur is completely spent does Merlin feel Arthur slide out of him. The gorgeous man collapses on the ground next to Merlin, breathing heavily. Merlin watches Arthur’s chest rise and fall. In Merlin’s head, he’s moving to rest his head on Arthur’s chest and listening to Arthur’s racing pulse. In reality, Merlin finds that his limbs won’t quite obey him.

The next few minutes are a battle between mind and body as Merlin is determined to get closer to his exhausted companion. He has little success until Arthur’s arm reaches out to pull Merlin closer. It’s not exactly the image he has in his mind, but his head rests on Arthur’s shoulder and he smiles finding that that is enough in this moment. 

“I thought you said you wouldn’t break me,” Merlin teases.

“...much,” Arthur adds. His arm has curled, fingers stroking at Merlin’s ever disheveled hair.

“You didn’t say that.” Merlin finds enough control to poke a finger into Arthur’s side. The offending digit earns a chuckle from Arthur.

“I’m amending my previous statement.”

“No no no, there are no take backs,” Merlin chides.

“I’m not taking anything back, I’m amending it.” Arthur’s tone leaves little room for argument and Merlin finds himself falling in silence as he enjoys the sensation of Arthur’s fingers in his hair. He closes his eyes and breathes Arthur in.

“Stay with me.” Arthur’s words are quiet and lack his normal commanding tone. They travel the length of the room and still Merlin hasn’t responded. “Please. Stay with me.”

Merlin pools his strength to push his head away from Arthur’s touch, leaving the warm shoulder naked to the air. His hand on the floor near Arthur’s side, he props himself up on an arm and struggles to turn. Finally facing the idyllic being, Merlin gives voice to the reality lying deep within him. “I wish I had romantic words for you. But for the life of me the only thing I can think to say, is yes.”

“And I believe that that may be the most romantic word I’ve ever heard,” Arthur replies.

Merlin leans down to kiss his once and future lover.


	6. The Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of it all. (Takes place 1 year after the original bet.)
> 
> (Special guest appearances by basically everyone.)

Arthur is enthralled by the sight of Merlin slowly riding him. The young man’s movements are still apprehensive at times, sliding gently down onto Arthur with trepidation. In the nine months since Merlin had lost his virginity, the two had many blissful nights but Merlin always seemed more relaxed when Arthur took control. Still Arthur adores the sight of his lover impaling himself on Arthur’s length, even though he knows that it’s only for his own pleasure. 

The pool hall had been empty when the two had arrived. He hadn’t realized Merlin’s intent when he had been forced into the bathroom. But everything became quite obvious when Merlin dragged Arthur into a stall and proceeded to drop to his knees, unbuttoning Arthur’s pants. From there, Arthur quickly lost control as Merlin took him in his mouth and now he sits on the lid of a toilet seat, Merlin’s forgotten jeans and Deadpool boxer briefs hanging over the side of the stall.

Merlin’s hands are blocked from Arthur’s view by the skinny man’s torso, but he can guess what occupies them. Arthur reaches a hand to gently curl around Merlin’s throat, pulling himself straighter until his head hovers over Merlin’s right shoulder. His right hand reaches around to still Merlin’s own, a hand gripping a hand gripping a cock.

“My dick doesn’t do it for you? You have to jerk yourself off?” Arthur knows he’s just being a tease, but he can’t help the urge to make Merlin squirm in his lap.

As expected, Merlin’s ass wiggles against Arthur, hips rolling in small motions and Arthur drowns in the sensation. But Merlin’s only response to Arthur’s question is a small moan. Arthur knows that Merlin is provoking him by not providing the necessary accolades to Arthur’s extraordinarily adept manhood, and Arthur rises to the challenge. Literally.

Two well muscled legs push Arthur to stand, sending him deep into Merlin as Merlin stumbles forward. The younger man’s hands land on the bolted stall door as Arthur grips into Merlin’s protruding pelvic bones. His hips begins a steady beat against Merlin’s scrawny backside. Arthur catches the Merlin’s profile and smiles as he notices Merlin’s bottom lip sucked passed his teeth. He challenges Merlin’s attempts to remain silent with a forceful thrust. Although Merlin’s mouth remains clamped shut, a moan escapes his bitten lip and Arthur feels both victorious and unsatisfied. In the past months, he often found that making love with this disheveled, haphazard young man often sent the word ‘more’ flying through Arthur’s mind, as if his vocabulary consisted of that word alone.

“Please… Arthur…” Merlin’s words come with heavy breaths as Merlin struggles to look at Arthur from the corner of his eyes. For a moment, Arthur wants to tease him, to melt him into a puddle of carnal desires. But Arthur knows what Merlin wants and for the life of him, he wants it too.

Arthur slides out of Merlin as a hands pull at shoulders and hips, and Merlin is soon against the wall of the small enclosure. While his victim is still disoriented, Arthur wraps an arm around Merlin’s thigh, lifting his leg to expose his moistened hole. Not allowing Merlin any time to adjust to the new position, Arthur sinks his cock back into Melin’s warmth. A moan escapes Arthur’s lips as his shaft is enveloped by Merlin’s soft flesh, his entrance yielding to allow more of Arthur’s length access. As Merlin’s mind finally seems to grasp the situation, Arthur begins to move. Within seconds, Arthur’s thrusts are rough and merciless and Merlin clasps a hand over his mouth to subdue his uncontrollable moans as the other grips at the top of the cubicle wall. Although Arthur desperately wants to protect this man from any harm that the world could possibly manifest against him, in this moment more than anything he wants to devastate Merlin with every carnal desire welling up within him. 

_THUMP THUMP THUMP!!_

The banging on the opposite wall of the stall sends a visible wave of panic through Merlin’s body and Arthur finds his hand gripping at the wall for control as Merlin tightens almost painfully around him.

“You almost done? You’re missing your party, ya know.” Gwaine. Of fucking course it was fucking Gwaine. He had probably volunteered to go and find the missing lovebirds. Arthur sees the panic in Merlin’s eyes withdraw as a smile begins to inch the corners of his insufferable mouth upwards. 

“FUCK. OFF. GWAINE.” Arthur punctuates each word with a hard thrust into Merlin’s depths. The growing smile is replaced with a hand as Merlin’s head is thrown back in silent bliss. Arthur’s fingers dig into the young pool player’s hips as he thrusts a fourth time, burying himself completely within his partner and holding himself there, his cock throbbing deep within Merlin. An irrepressible moan escapes from Merlin and Arthur knows that his own expression must be completely wicked.

“Jeez, don’t kill ‘im.” Gwaine replies through the wall.

“Gwaine.” Arthur is sure that Gwaine can understand the warning through his tone.

“Okay already. Just be quick, yeah?” Gwaine’s words trail away and Arthur hears the door of the bathroom swing shut. 

Merlin is glaring down at Arthur as if he were the affronting party instead of Gwaine. In response, Arthur pulls the hem of Merlin’s shirt over his head, leaving the fabric to bundle at the back of Merlin’s neck. The article of clothing stretches a bit as the sleeves are still positioned around Merlin’s arms. Arthur moves his forefinger and thumb to pinch at his own tongue before they find their way to Merlin’s nipple, the wet pads of his digits squeezing at the tender flesh. Devious thoughts crackling through his brain, Arthur rocks his hips slowly, his hardened self rubbing inside Merlin in small, slow motions. “I guess we need to be quick,” Arthur purrs.

Electric blue eyes widen with understanding as Merlin locks his gaze onto Arthur. “Wait. Arthur…”

The thought is never finished as Arthur gains speed, although Merlin does try a few more times. Months ago, Arthur gave up on the paradox that is Merlin and his ‘wait’s. Whenever Arthur slowed at the word, Merlin would surely turn disappointed eyes to Arthur’s lack of enthusiasm. Still, Merlin can’t seem to help it. 

A few thrusts in and the word has been expunged from whatever message Merlin is attempting to convey. Now, only Arthur’s name falls from those succulent lips, the sound more enchanting to Arthur than a Siren’s song. Arthur’s tempo increases as he is caught in the melody that is Merlin and the distance between them closes to nothing, his chest securing Merlin firmly against the wall as fingers trail against the still raised thigh. Merlin succumbs to his own rising voice and the room is filled with the sinful cacophony. Arthur feels Merlin’s arms entrap him, one flowing over his shoulder as the other wraps around his waist. Nails scrape along his back and he can only hope that they will leave their mark. The crescendo continues as Arthur’s rhythm gains strength and speed.

“Fuck,” Arthur moans as he drives his cock into Merlin time and time again. Closing on the brink of ecstasy, Arthur draws himself out to the tip before quickly sliding his entire length back into Merlin. Again, he pulls back only to impale his victim once more. Arthur’s mouth collides with Merlin’s, lustful moans filling Arthur as he sends his tongue sliding past Merlin’s lips. His thrusts have become slower and more powerful as he nears his climax, holding himself on the edge a moment longer. Their voices meet in moans around embracing tongues as Arthur finally reaches his peak. He feels himself spilling into Merlin, his body tensing with the release and Merlin grips into him as he feels Merlin shuddering for the same. Arthur’s free hand reaches down to palm Merlin’s tip and Merlin convulses at the sensation. Soon enough, his palm is painted with Merlin’s cum and the two gasp for breath against the flimsy metal wall. Arthur slides out of Merlin and releases his leg, hoping that two feet may help Merlin remain upright. Arthur begins to lick his hand clean as he watches Merlin sway a bit in his afterglow. 

“Guess we should join the party,” Arthur pants as he glances at his mostly naked companion.

“Mmm,” Merlin responds and Arthur slides an arm around his waist hoping to keep him vertical. At least until they can get his pants back on.

* * *

The plan had been to get dressed, straighten up a bit, make sure both parties had full control over their appendages, and then join the party. Ten minutes later, Arthur is waiting as Merlin fusses over his hair. Merlin continuously declares to the mirror that it looks as if they just spent the last half an hour fucking in the bathroom, which of course they had. The preening ceases only when Arthur points out that Merlin’s disheveled hair always looks like he spent the last half an hour fucking and thusly confirms nothing of the sort.

“If people want to know if we were having sex, they’ll have to look at me,” Arthur observes.

Merlin turns to give Arthur a casual inspection. “We’re fucked,” Merlin concludes.

Arthur glances at himself in the mirror and finds himself agreeing with his co conspirator. His blonde hair is less than perfect, his clothes lack their normal pristine appearance and his face appears flushed from his less than saintly exertions. He shrugs and reaches out to catch Merlin’s hand in his own. 

“Time to face the firing squad then.” Arthur pulls at Merlin and soon enough the bathroom door is swinging shut behind them. 

The pool hall isn’t crowded, and their friends seem to be one of the largest gatherings in the establishment even though there are only four of them. Percy and Will are shooting at a table near the bar. Based on Will slight scowl, Arthur would guess that he’s losing. Lance sits peacefully on a barstool, beer in hand. He looks clearly amused at Gwaine, who appears to be ordering a shot from the voluptous bartendress while simultaneously trying to keep her from leaving his presence to obtain said shot.

“Want a beer?” Arthur turns to Merlin with the question as they approach the bar. 

“Why not? I mean, we’re celebrating, right?” Merlin’s tone doesn’t sound like he’s celebrating and Arthur sighs.

“Don’t start that again.” Arthur reaches a hand out to push against the side of Gwaine’s head as he puts his attention on the woman behind the bar. “This guy bothering you?”

“I think he bothers most people,” the woman laughs. Gwaine twists his head to displace Arthur’s hand “But at least he has enough sense to keep his trap shut when Tristan’s around.”

“Speaking of, I thought he’d be here tonight,” Merlin interjects. Arthur can see those beautiful blues eyes scanning the area for signs of the owner.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, he’ll be here,” she says. “Beer while you wait?”

“Two,” Arthur answers. She smiles and nods, walking away.

“Hey Izzy, got anything back there to wet my lips?” Gwaine calls after her.

“You couldn’t handle her,” Percy laughs as he walks up behind Gwaine, Will following.

“I could handle you well enough,” Gwaine counters as if to challenge the big man to step outside.

“Only if you buy me dinner first.” Percy wags his eyebrows at Gwaine in mock flirtation.

“And a drink,” Will adds.

“Or ten.” Merlin jumps in.

“I’d want a whole bar,” Lance mutters into his beer.

Arthur laughs and he turns his attention back to Izzy as she returns with two bottles hanging from experienced fingers while carrying a shot of golden liquor in her other hand. The bottles are offered to Arthur who passes one off to Merlin. Arthur tilts his beer to gently connect with Merlin’s, a small clink resounding through the glass before Arthur lifts it to his lips. The shot is set on the bar behind Gwaine, gathering the man’s attention. Gwaine laughs. “Is that how Tristan did it?”

“Hon, he did it long before he opened this pool hall.” Izzy flashes her worldly smile. Arthur loves how easily Izzy can put Gwaine in his place. Gwaine downs his shot with a grin.

Percy steps up to order a drink as Gwaine grabs a stool next to Lance. Arthur turns to lean his back against the bar and he feels his hand brush past Merlin’s arm. He lets his fingers glide over Merlin’s skin, and he listens to Will and Lance debate the merits of wining and dining as he strokes Merlin’s inner wrist. Will’s argument seems to be based on an instant pleasure scale as opposed to Lance’s position which rests on long term satisfaction. Neither seem to be making much headway in convincing the other of their views.

“May I cut in?” Percy’s voice is suddenly next to Arthur. He turns confused eyes to the big man as Percy circles around to clap a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “I want a rematch.”

“I guess I have some time to kick your ass,” Merlin responds. Merlin’s hand reaches to touch Arthur’s shoulder before sliding down his arm. “Be back in five minutes or so?” Merlin’s blue eyes dance with amusement and Arthur smiles at his lover’s enjoyment with the evening. He has to stop himself from leaning in for a kiss.

The two walk to the nearby pool table and Arthur watches as Merlin racks. The beautiful black haired boy swings the wooden triangle and Arthur smiles at the habit that he’s come to know and love. Plus, he finds it sexy. Hell, Merlin playing pool is just about the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. A year ago in the same pool hall, Merlin’s pseudonym had proven true as Arthur fell under the man’s spell. And the Wizard’s magic had only become stronger since then. Arthur is sure that he could spend years watching Merlin play. His lithe form bending over the table holds such magnetism, his confident shots hold such allure that Arthur constantly finds his eyes distracted by the sight. The view is only made more enticing by the overlay of Arthur’s memories in which Merlin is executing the same shots while naked. He can remember the indents of Merlin’s muscles as they hold him in position, the delicate flexing of Merlin’s arms as he takes aim, the tense of his body as he connects to send ordered chaos across the felt.

“Another!” Once again, Gwaine’s voice brings him out of his sexual reveries. Arthur decides that this is probably for the best as it would be rude to spend another half an hour in the bathroom.

Gwaine, true to his nature, has apparently decided that a party in any form is really just an excuse to get completely wasted and make an ass out of himself. Not that the later requires a large amount of alcohol, but it couldn’t hurt. Much. And Izzy is delighted as she makes drink after drink for the endless lush. As Percy has already assumed responsibility for getting Gwaine home safely, Arthur finds no reason to curb the festivities. Serves Percy right for stealing Merlin away.

A waft of air passes Arthur’s cheek and he recognizes the draft as the telltale sign of the main door being opened. He glances towards the front of the hall to see two additions to their party making their way over. Never one to miss a good opportunity, he turns back to Gwaine.

“Hell, Gwaine, you come here just to get drunk?” Arthur goads.

“That and to find something warm to take home tonight.” Gwaine turns to Izzy, the beginnings of his alcoholic haze creeping into his voice. “And by warm I mean sizzling fucking hot.”

“And where am I on that scale?” Tristan questions from behind Gwaine. Arthur silently applauds Gwaine for taking the bait so easily as Tristan cocks an eyebrow in Gwaine’s direction. Lance moves next to Arthur to avoid Gwaine’s area of impact, just in case the cocky drunk decides to push his luck. Gwaine turns to see the man standing behind him and smiles innocently.

“Of course, you’re off the charts. Just one big heap of molten sex right here.” Gwaine’s verbal two-step has sent Arthur and Lance into a bout of silent chuckles while Izzy leans against the bar, both snickering and agreeing with the patron.

“Before you even think about it, no. We’re not having a threesome,” Tristan states as he heads behind the bar even though everyone knows that Gwaine would still try. He wouldn’t be Gwaine unless he tried.

Arthur’s eyes find their way back to Merlin as they always do, and he sees the other guest being greeted. Merlin’s arms wrap around Gwen in a friendly hug for a brief moment before the two separate. Arthur watches as they seem to exchange pleasantries and he can see Merlin roll his eyes. Gwen must have wished him a happy anniversary or some such. He can see Merlin shake his head before he points at the bar. And then Merlin’s eyes follow his hand and he can finally see Arthur watching him. Arthur cocks an eyebrow in Merlin’s direction and Merlin smiles sheepishly.

Gwen laughs at Merlin before patting him on the shoulder. With a smile, she walks away from the pool player and heads towards Arthur. Arthur has met her on more than a few occasions and he understands completely why Merlin befriended her. Of course, Arthur has a fair suspicion that it was Gwen who befriended Merlin, but at least Merlin had the sense to welcome her friendship. Arthur had first met her when visiting Merlin at his day job in a nearby bookstore and he had found that she’s a cheerful girl with a positive attitude and enough mettle to handle most comments and quips. Over the past few weeks, Arthur and Merlin had discussed the possibility of introducing her to Lance. The party seemed like a wonderful opportunity.

“Happy anniversary, Arthur,” Gwen says as she approaches.

“Thanks,” Arthur replies as he gives Gwen the same quick hug his partner had given her moments earlier. “I don’t think you’ve met Lance.”

“I can’t say I have.” Gwen shrugs herself out of her coat as her attention turns to the quiet observer next to them. She’s a bit dolled up in a loose green tank top and low rise jeans, and Arthur gives her a mental thumbs up. 

“He’s a personal trainer down at Daily Fitness. I’ve been trying to get him to open his own center, but he seems to lack a bit of confidence.” Arthur reaches out for Gwen’s coat and she passes the deep blue jacket over to Arthur with a soft murmur of gratitude. “I keep telling him that with his client base and skills, he’d have no trouble turning a profit. Try to convince him not to be a fool before I get back.” Arthur claps a hand on Lance’s shoulder before walking off to stash Gwen’s coat with the rest in the back of the house. Being friendly with the owner’s definitely has benefits beyond their cheerful company and witty retorts. 

Before entering the room behind the bar, Arthur passes a swaying Gwaine who is attempting to feed a dollar bill into the juke box. A sigh escapes Arthur’s lips as he can only imagine the horror that’s about to descend upon the cozy establishment. Moving into hidden recesses of the pool hall, Arthur carefully deposits Gwen’s coat among the rest before pulling out his wallet to remove a card of silver plastic. He approaches the entryway to the bar and taps against the wooden frame to gain Tristan’s attention. The older man notices and moves the back. Unseen by his guest’s, Arthur passes him the card with a smile. “Tonight’s on me.” Tristan nods in agreement as Arthur leaves the way he came, exiting out into the pool hall proper. 

Gwaine has managed the single into the jukebox and Will has joined him to browse the digital selection. Arthur decides not to join the two, but he finds himself hesitant to return to Gwen and Lance as they deserve some time to talk amongst themselves. He looks in their direction and sees that Merlin and Percy have joined the pair. The pool game must have concluded.

As he approached the small group, Arthur’s eyes watch Merlin’s every move. Merlin appears to be impressing some point to the others, his hands gesticulating in defense of his words. Arthur can imagine the conversation clearly and as he nears, Merlin’s voice confirms his suspicions.

“...basically celebrating me losing a pool game. Our anniversary should be three months from now,” Merlin declares as Arthur slides up next to him.

“We’ll celebrate then too,” Arthur voices as he slides a hand into Merlin’s.

“Then why do we have to celebrate tonight?” Merlin asks.

“Because a year ago tonight in this pool hall, I met you,” Arthur smiles.

“A year ago tonight, I lost a game of pool. One I should have won, by the way.” Merlin acts affronted by the memory of the loss.

“I’m glad you didn’t because then we wouldn’t be here.”

“Or we would, because you just can’t take defeat.” Their friends laugh at Merlin’s words, only slightly aware that this topic had been a point of contention between the two for the past few weeks. The conversation has been reiterated in various forms between the couple since Arthur had broached the subject of their upcoming ‘anniversary’. They hadn’t fully argued over the matter, but Arthur knows that Merlin is humoring him. If Arthur hadn’t wanted to celebrate, he knows that Merlin would be on the couch watching ‘West Wing’ in his most comfortable pajama pants. “Either way,” Merlin continues, “I’d rather celebrate our…” Merlin pauses. “You know. When we started dating.”

Arthur’s grin can’t be stopped as he hears Merlin’s embarrassment in the word ‘dating’. Merlin always seemed to gain a slightly pink hue at such casual words, such as ‘boyfriend’ or ‘intimate’, although he seems unabashed with blunt words, like ‘lover’ or ‘fucking’. He’s nonplussed with actions or displays of affection and only words ever seem to make him squirm with chagrin. Arthur’s ultimate weapon had often been the phrase ‘I like you’ which would assuredly send the delicate pink coloring of Merlin’s cheeks up to a full blown rosy blush. He’s tempted to do just that and more in response to Merlin’s own words, but Arthur settles with placing a gentle kiss on Merlin’s shoulder before replying. “Like I said, we’ll celebrate that too.”

Gentle smiles meet the affection between the two, but before anyone can respond, the jukebox kicks to life. A beat thrums through the hall for a count as Gwaine approaches. As Prince, the artist pre-former anything, begins to sing Kiss from the overhead speakers, Gwaine’s lips follow suit. His hips thrust to the beat as a fisted hand holds an invisible microphone in front of him. He saunters up the the group, the rhythm caring his feet closer and closer. A finger tracing down Percy’s arm as Gwaine mouth’s informs him in Prince’s voice that the big man doesn’t need experience to turn the drunk man on. As Gwaine begins to rub against Lance, Arthur grabs Merlin and makes a break for it as he would rather avoid getting caught up in Gwaine’s scandalous lipsynching.

The couple retreat to the pool table and Arthur turns to confront Merlin. “So I take it you’d like a rematch then? Ya know, since you should have won and all.”

Merlin’s light chuckle can’t overpower Gwaine’s choice of music, but Arthur can see the smile on Merlin’s face and the movement along his throat. He could be deaf and still hear the sound of his lover’s laugh with the memories the last year has given him. And Arthur has every intention of memorizing even more of Merlin’s sounds with every year to come. He would map every inch of Merlin’s body and ingrain every habit and quirk into his heart. He would spend a lifetime studying this man and become an expert on everything him.

“So what shall we bet this time?” Arthur asks as he steps closer to Merlin. His hands lift Merlin’s before sliding their way along the underside of his arms. In doing so, Merlin’s hands are left to slide along the upper half of Arthur’s forearms.

Merlin shakes his head as his hands continue without Arthur’s urging, making their way up to Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur’s arms encircle Merlin as one of Merlin’s hands hangs over his shoulder and the other combs its way into the strands of Arthur’s golden hair. Arthur feels his head held in place as Merlin leans in to place his lips next to Arthur’s ear. Arthur can feel familiar urges welling up within him and he lets them wash over him, knowing that there will never be a time when his desires for this man are quelled completely. Merlin’s voice is soft but clearly audible and his breath tickles against Arthur’s ear. “We don’t need to make this more interesting. Besides, I’ve already bet everything on you.” 

Merlin begins to withdraw from Arthur, but before he can gain any reasonable amount of distance, Arthur grabs him into a crushing embrace. Their lips meet in sweet silence and Arthur can taste the moon and beer and remembered dreams.

“Challenger breaks,” Arthur prompts with a cocky smile.

* * *

The rest of the night had been full of frivolities and festivities, laughter and liquor and lavishment. Percy had to all but carry Gwaine out of the pool hall after the incredibly drunk lipsyncher had propositioned Gwen. Not being one to request the normal one night stand, Gwaine had inquired if Gwen would be interested in a threesome. This came with the drunken assurance that Lance would not mind her presence in the bedroom. At that moment, Lance looked as if he would like to excuse himself to find the nearest hole to crawl into.

Arthur and Merlin enter their condo as the moon is high overhead. When Arthur had mention moving out of his family’s estate a few months earlier, Merlin had gathered his courage to ask Arthur to move in with him. This turned into a month of real estate agents and open houses, but eventually the couple had found a condo that was too small for Arthur and too big for Merlin. Which of course means that it’s somehow perfect for the pair. 

Keys clink into the dish in the front hall and the two head towards the master bedroom. Despite the late hour, a lingering hum of the night’s celebration has Arthur hesitant to head straight to sleep. Still, he proceeds to change and go about his nightly routine as Merlin does the same. As he brushes his teeth, his mind reaches a conclusion. He holds his toothbrush over the sink as he speaks with a mouth full of toothpaste. “Next day we both have off, let’s go see your mom.”

A moment ticks by before Merlin answers from the bedroom. “I’ll pass.”

Water runs into the sink as Arthur spits out his mouthful of green spearmint froth and rinses his toothbrush. “You know I need to meet her.” Arthur takes a sip of water to swish about before spitting that too into the sink. 

“Then go without me,” Merlin answers. Arthur takes a swig of water and swallows before finishing in the bathroom and joining Merlin in the bedroom. Merlin is sitting on top of the covers scrolling through his phone. Arthur levels his eyes as he prepares for a fight. He doesn’t want to argue about this, but it’s important even if it is a sensitive issue.

“I need you to resolve this thing with your mom.” Arthur’s voice is heavy as he tries to express the necessity through his tone. As Merlin sets his phone down, Arthur applauds himself for at least drawing Merlin into the conversation. Now, he justs needs to keep a fight from breaking out.

“You’re not proposing.” Merlin’s words are a command as his eyes meet Arthur’s with a strict warning. This is not the conversation Arthur had anticipated, but now that Merlin had said it, he can see how he could easily be misunderstood. Merlin continues, his voice pressing home his earlier words. “We’re not getting married yet. I mean, we’re not getting married soon. Shit. Nobody’s getting married and there’s plenty of time for all that and I don’t need to resolve shit.” 

Hiding a smile over Merlin’s talk of marriage and his incredibly red cheeks, Arthur crawls onto the bed to try to stem some of his partner’s panic. He reaches out for Merlin but Merlin turns away as if to run from all the good intentions that Arthur’s arms hold for him. He never makes it off the bed as Arthur seizes him and pulls him close, Arthur’s bare chest pressing against the flesh of Merlin’s back. “No, I’m not proposing.”

“Then, it’s fine.” Arthur can tell from Merlin’s voice that he’s still on guard and he can feel the muscles beneath his touch tense with preparations for escape. The doubt and uncertainty that fills Arthur every time Merlin withdraws has forced this confrontation. The mantra that has consumed Arthur, that Arthur has psychically projected on to Merlin since the day they met is simple and yet seemingly impossible for Merlin to adhere to fully, despite his efforts. ‘Don’t run from me.’ And Arthur appreciates every small step that Merlin has made but still, Merlin runs.

“It’s not fine. I’m not fine.” Arthur’s words come out with a shaky breath as he hugs Merlin closer to him. His head rests on Merlin’s shoulder and he aches with the need for this man’s presence. “I love you.” 

It’s terrifying. Sending that message out into the world, not being able to retract it, not being able to explain it, knowing that it’s too much and never enough is terrifying. They are just words and they cannot replace the feeling of holding your lover in your arms, they cannot equal a kiss full of a lifetime of desires. They cannot convey the need for acceptance or understanding. They are a paltry way of expressing the everything that the heart feels for another. And yet they are filled with such danger that they can send a person fleeing to a place where they can never be reached. 

Merlin’s muscles relax a bit under Arthur’s grip but his silence burns in Arthur’s ears. The celebration was never supposed to end like this. But since the words have been said, Arthur knows he’s has to say it all. The words Merlin spoke earlier in the night now race across Arthur’s mind. The time has come for Arthur to match Merlin’s bet. He’d put everything on the line and pray that his gamble pays off. “I love you, and I’d sacrifice everything for you.”

He can feel Merlin shift in his arms as the words settle into him. Then Arthur continues. “You’re worth every last thing that I have.”

“I can’t be the thing that ruins you.” Merlin’s hand lifts and grips at Arthur’s arms. But it doesn’t pull them away. Arthur buries closed eyes in the crook of Merlin’s neck and he wonders if Merlin said those words in a different place at a different time to a different person. Arthur knows that he can’t dispel Merlin’s fears with reckless promises or false assurances. Still he struggles to respond, looking for the answer that will keep his world from spinning out of control.

“Then don’t.” Those two words hold a deeper truth than Arthur wants to admit. But Merlin needs that truth and Arthur won’t protect himself at Merlin’s expense. “You left her. She loved you and you left her.”

“We’re different.” Merlin’s voice is weak and defensive, but Arthur knows his words are shallow. On a larger scale, the differences are important and obviously necessary. The smaller elements however resonate within Arthur and fill him with a foreboding echo of Merlin’s past. Arthur can feel Merlin’s lungs expand as he takes a deep breath. The hand holding Arthur’s arm pushes his limb closer to Merlin’s chest. “I’m different.”

The hope those words provide soothes the uncertainty resting within Arthur, but it cannot erase it. The fear of losing something of value is only natural when holding something so precious, and the moment that that fear ceases to exist, the world will surely reclaim its treasures.

In the silence that follows, Merlin turns in Arthur’s arms. Arthur lifts his head and his eyes meet Merlin’s. The electric blue burns into Arthur as Merlin leans closer. Their foreheads rest against each other and Arthur can sense Merlin’s hesitance. He feels Merlin suppress a shudder and he suddenly knows that Merlin’s fear matches his own. Arthur tucks a particularly unruly bit of black hair behind Merlin’s ear before stroking his hand down to rest against Merlin’s neck. The briefest of moments is all it takes before Arthur’s lips are against Merlin’s and the moment that follows is an eternity wrapped in seconds. Arthur pulls back, leaving only enough room for thoughts and whispered promises to pass between them. But Merlin has no time to give to idle breaths and the space between them is closed as Merlin’s lips pursue Arthur. They press against the rosy flesh that gives voice to Arthur’s existence and mouths open in a silent song. Merlin pushes against Arthur as their tongue find each other in a darkness of their own making and Arthur lies back against the cushions of their bed. Arthur closes his eyes as Merlin lies on top of him and he gives in to the waves of sensations. Merlin pulls back and Arthur’s eyes crack open to feast upon two blue seas staring down at him as a hand strokes his face.

“I’m different,” Merlin repeats and Arthur sees his words echoing in the depths of his eyes. But the time for voices and words had past and would not return until they were both thoroughly spent.

* * *

The room is dark and the two lie naked beneath the sheets. Silence guards their slumber in the wee hours before dawn. Arthur’s body had spent hours repeating to Merlin the words he had said earlier. Now exhausted, his head lay motionless against his pillow. A finger gently traces the lines of his lips. A voice drifts into the night, sending words to chase falling stars.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The End. I really hope everyone enjoyed. This is my first fic, but I do plan on writing more eventually. We'll see. Please feel free to comment. I like hearing what people have to say, both good and bad. And overall, Thanks for reading! ^.^ )


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